Magic Is All Around
by Stelmariana
Summary: The Seven, Nico, and Thalia are summoned by Chiron to answer the call of an extremely unusual, possibly unique, prophecy. Yes, the Oracle of Delphi strikes again. The demigods must worm their way into Hogwarts, protect Harry Potter, negotiate their lives around magic, and, above all, NEVER reveal their true identity. Minerva McGonagall just wants peace...and tea. Not a stalker fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Author's Note:**

**Hey, everyone. I really wanted to have my own attempt at writing a PJ/HP crossover. I found the idea fascinating, and my muse was suddenly in my face the whole bloody time, until I actually sat down and wrote it. Not all of it, 'cause I have a lot going on, and this is my final year, but I hope you like it.**

**I'm writing this based on the assumption that the whole HP universe is in the years 2000s, not 1990s, and also that Leo lived but failed to find Calypso, and that Hazel and Frank stayed for a bit longer.**

**I love reviews, by the way, and it's my birthday very soon, so please feel free! *hint, hint***

**Anyway, here we go. I really don't know how often I'll update, because I have another fic (Once Upon a Time/Lord of the Rings crossover, if you're interested) on the go at the moment, but I'll do my best.**

* * *

><p>Professor Minerva McGonagall sipped her coffee, thinking what a marvelous morning it was, and how fine it would be to take a stroll around the lake after breakfast, followed perhaps by an hour or two of reading in the light, sunny and blissfully quiet library of Hogwarts.<p>

She thought that, but didn't really expect any of it to come to pass. The problem with being a teacher, you see, was that after over thirty years of doing the job, you tended to develop a sense of exactly just how erroneously wrong you were to think _Excellent, I'll just have a little rest for a moment, there can't _possibly _be anything left to worry about right now_, when _bam_, something worth pulling you hair out for magically appeared. She ought not find it surprising, really, Minerva usually thought dryly. This _was_ a school of magic, after all. But she had had a summer full of frantically gathering data about impending first years, calming hysterical house-elves after a lack-of-flour crisis, supervising the annoyingly long process of removing all traces of the Triwizard Tournament (_when_ was someone going to invent a spell that would just *_poof!*_ anything that was wrong with your life?) and, oh! Of course, that little matter of Lord Voldemort returning a couple of months ago had caused the fractured remains of the Order of the Phoenix scrambling for wands, allies, or clothes, depending on whether Dumbledore's message had reached them in the middle of the night.

So in fact, Minerva McGonagall was thinking that her summer had been really quite poor, and nothing short of a Death Eater attack could make it any worse.

She was wrong.

Albus Dumbledore cleared his throat, and everyone present at the staff table turned to look at the headmaster.

"It may interest you to know that, following my failure to find a suitable Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Minister Cornelius Fudge has seen fit to appoint one of his choice - as indeed he is entitled to do if the headmaster did not succeed-"

"Oh, come off it, Albus!" Minerva said impatiently. "We all know perfectly well it wasn't your fault. The job's jinxed!"

Several of her colleagues nodded and murmured in agreement, but Dumbledore continued mildly.

"Nevertheless, Cornelius has chosen someone as the new Defense teacher. Her name is Dolores Umbridge, formerly Senior Undersecretary to the Minister himself."

Minerva almost spat out her tea. After swallowing it with difficulty and scalding her tongue, she rasped out.

"Not that awful woman who keeps insisting that muggle-borns aren't worthy of attending Hogwarts?"

"Not the one who seems to be on a personal crusade to make glittery pink cats the national emblem?" Pomona Sprout, her usually kind face twisted in disgust.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in a way only those who knew him well - which Minerva did - could have spotted, and she could have sworn he looked amused.

"The very same." he confirmed. "She will arrive the day before term starts, and I trust you will all give her a very warm wel-"

"I hate that woman." Minerva muttered, making no effort to keep her voice down.

"A very warm welcome." Dumbledore repeated calmly. There definitely _was_ a twinkle there, Minerva decided.

She quashed the juvenile urge to groan, and settled for primly setting down her teacup, but stabbed her fruit salad with uncustomary venom. In doing so, she noticed a slow grin spreading across Pomona's face. Minerva almost got annoyed at her friend, too. What could possibly draw a smile from her if that godawful excuse for a woman was coming to teach at Hogwarts?

"What?" she snapped, more sharply than she'd intended.

The grin on the herbology teacher's face widened.

"Oh, I cannot _wait _for her to make her presence known at Hogwarts. Imagine what the Weasley twins are going to do as soon as she tries anything!"

Minerva considered the piece of apple speared onto her fork. Her mind recalled all the incidents she'd unfortunately had to witness during the twins' years in the school. Dungbombs, Slipping Charms, Stalking Parrots (she _still _teased Severus about that) and...oooh, that time with the broomstick jinxed to whack someone's face as soon as they tried to mount it.

A faint smile stretched her thin lips. Perhaps there _was _a bright side to this, and one that maybe even Trelawney and her hogwash prophecies couldn't ruin.

Actually, speaking of Trelawney...

The Divination teacher had, for once, deigned to descend from her lofty tower to breakfast in the company of mere mortals such as themselves. She had made a great show of carefully selecting which seat was least likely to suffer an Acromantula attack, spilled hot drinks or goodness knew what else, then picked at her food, loudly declaring that Mars was bright again, so it only made sense to eat a little more to gain strength for the oncoming battle.

The extra food didn't seem to do her much good. Sibyll was sitting rapt in her chair, eyes fixed straight ahead and utterly immobile. Minerva decided to make an effort to be civil.

"Sibyll, dear, do have a poached egg or two, they really are excellent."

"_The Dark Lord, once beaten, now come,_" Trelawney declared in a harsh voice most unlike her usual misty tones.

"Yes, we know, Sibyll, dear. Please have an egg, you're looking awfully thin-"

"_Once more for power, for blood, for none_

_Nine will react, and nine will return_

_Across the sea lest the world will churn_

_Magic will suffer, magic will rise_

_B__ut to the stag, the storm, fire and death,_

_The might of darkness will meet its demise_

_United, as one, Olympian, eagle, lion and snake_

_Will decide for good or ill the magical fate."_

As soon as she fell silent, Trelawney's gaze focused once more, then fell to her plate, which she'd hardly touched. She picked up a fork and enthusiastically spooned up a couple of mouthfuls of porridge, unaware of all her colleagues' gazes fixed on her. The hall was utterly silent, barring Trelawney's slurping.

After nearly a minute of silence, Dumbledore finally cleared his throat.

"Sibyll," he called, calm as ever. "I wonder if you would join me for a minute or two; now, if you please. We can take a stroll around the lake, it would do you some good."

Trelawney looked thoroughly taken aback, but obediently followed the headmaster as he rose and exited the Great Hall. As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, the professors erupted into animated argument. Some were surprised, other disbelieving or scornful, and precisely one was impressed.

"Do you know," Minerva McGonagall said, her gaze still fixed on the huge wooden doors. "I think we may have actually witnessed a real prophecy. And you all know how I'm the last person who would ever say that."

Filius Flitwick snorted.

"Oh please, Minerva." he squeaked disapprovingly. "Those were just melodramatics, like all she ever does."

"I'm not sure," Professor Sinistra ventured cautiously. "I've never heard her try to attract attention by using that voice before. And what she said about Mars being bright-"

Madam Hooch chuckled.

"Really, Augusta. I respect astrology as much as anyone, and of all of us here you're the most entitled to place any importance on it, but Sibyll's mention of Mars was evidently a scam. I don't think she would even know where to find it in the sky if we asked her. She probably thought it would have dramatic effect if she casually mentioned it a minute before going all rigid and and predicting doom. The only tactic she's changed for the first time in sixteen years is her tone of voice, really."

"Dramatic effect is one way to put it." Pomona mumbled. "We're all lucky this didn't happen in the middle of term."

"I agree." Minerva said primly. "And as much as I do not think Divination a solid basis for information or plans, I equally disapprove of speaking ill of my colleagues." She shot a sharp look at Hooch, who shrugged.

"Well, let's face it. She's not exactly making it easy for us _not _to, is she?"

There were mumbled assents, but Minerva's sharp eyes switched to Severus, who was still drinking coffee and had yet to say anything. Knowing him, he would immediately have shown his scorn if he thought Trelawney was trying to attract attention. So if his silence was anything to go by, Minerva rather thought she had at least one other person who agreed with her.

"Well," Pomona said grimly, "with that pink toad, an impending Gred and Forge attack and the fate of magic in question, this is starting to sound like an interesting year."

Minerva could only reluctantly agree.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Percy was on fire when Nico found him.

It wasn't his fault. The stupid lava wall was playing up, spitting drops of liquid-hot rock on his clothes as he raced across it. He yelped as his shirt started to singe and his back started to feel like it was being poked with white-hot roller-ball pens. He scrambled up twice as fast as he usually would have and dropped to the floor, rolling around several times in the dust, while Nico stuck his hands in his pockets and grinned. Percy still wasn't used to him smiling so often.

"New look, water boy?" the son of Hades called, for once looking amused despite his whole doom-and-gloom aura.

Percy muttered a string of Greek swearwords under his breath as he got up and roughly dusted himself down.

"That's _Lord _water boy to you, gothy." he replied grumpily. "And call me that again only if you really want an excuse for a fight."

"Same goes for you, but I'll keep that in mind." Nico answered easily. In the sunlight his skin was as pale as ever, but the haunted look he'd acquired in that jam-jar had disappeared entirely, and he'd put on enough weight since to differentiate him from those creepy skeletons he occasionally liked to summon. He even acted happier, which Percy was glad of. Being surrounded by his friends, sister, and people who once again thought he was awesome had really brought out a bit more of the light-hearted boy Percy had once known. Nico's new friend Will Solace also had had, Percy suspected, something to do with it.

"So...did you come here just to gloat, or do you actually have a reason for standing there looking gormless?"

Nico rolled his eyes.

"D'you know, very few people on this earth could get away with speaking to a prince of the underworld like that, Jackson."

"Ooh, _prince_ of the underworld now, are we? Do you get privileges, like good movie seats or discounts in Uncle Death's shopping mall?"

"Shut up." Nico muttered. "And actually, yes, I do have a reason. Chiron sent me to find you. He wants to see you, me and a few others at the Big House for a reason he didn't care to divulge."

Percy's heart sank. There was usually only one reason for a summons to the big House, and that was a quest. He couldn't imagine what new quest could possibly have come up after only a month since Gaia's defeat, but Percy couldn't help but feel it wasn't anything good. Of course, in this particular context, the word 'good' was thoroughly subjective. Quests hardly ever qualified as 'good'; more like 'exciting' or 'useful'. Maybe even 'fun'. But never 'good'. Ugh, he was starting to sound like Annabeth. Percy loved his girlfriend, but he had no wish to start sounding like he'd swallowed Daedalus' laptop.

"What for? Are you sure he didn't give any reason?"

Nico shrugged.

"Dunno. He really didn't give any details, but I suggest we hurry up, 'cause we're already late. You have _no _idea how many places someone can be when you're looking for them in this camp-"

"Fifty-two. Fifty-three, if you count the small alcove in Zeus' Fist."

"... And you would know that why?..."

Percy shrugged.

"ADHD, remember? I'm willing to bet everyone in this camp has at least subconsciously evaluated the number of places they could hide. It's part of human survival skills as much as fighting." He straightened briskly. "But why are you worried about being late? You could just shadowtravel us there."

Nico winced, like this was a subject that had been discussed numerous times and he was rapidly getting sick of.

"Can't." he grumbled, kicking a pebble. "Doctor's orders. Will says that if I try anything like that again for the next month I'll dissolve into a puddle of vaporous black goo."

"Aw, too bad. I have a feeling we'll get shouted at anyway, then." Percy decided not to mention anything about Nico obeying Will's 'doctor' orders. It was extremely unusual for the son of Hades to be any kind of submissive, but the subject of Will Solace was still touchy, especially ever since Leo had said _"two stubborn, scrawny gits should get into even more trouble than one"_, which for some reason had made Nico mad.

So for once, Percy kept his mouth shut when he was supposed to and followed Nico up the hill to the Big House. They didn't say much - both were busy wondering why they were specifically called upon.

In the basement, the two boys found Annabeth and Frank playing rock-paper-scissors (it didn't work too well: Annabeth could tell what Frank was going to do by reading his body language) with Piper and Hazel as an audience. Jason was polishing his new glasses as he talked to Leo, who was building a submarine (helices and all) out of Fonzies and pipe cleaners. Percy walked over to Annabeth and wrapped an arm around her. Frank shouted in triumph.

"Ha! Rock! Got you!"

Annabeth rolled her eyes

"You distracted me, Seaweed Brain."

Percy smirked.

"Just by putting my arm round you? Then what will this do?"

He leaned forward and kissed her. She poked his ribs, right where a lava-blister had developed. Percy winced.

"Never leave your side unprotected." she whispered into his ear, and kissed him back.

There was a almighty _smack _and everyone pivoted to see Leo face-down on the ping-pong table. He looked up and glared at Percy and Annabeth. They had a hard time not laughing, because Leo with his face covered in crumbs was only slightly less intimidating than him humming "_Walking on Sunshine_" while polishing Festus.

"_Will _you two stop that? Dude, I already have to deal with Jason and Piper going all gooey-eyed several times daily. D'you _know _how many times I've tried to lock them in a room to let off all steam before they're allowed in public again?"

"That was _you_?" Piper interrupted, her voice going shrill around the edges. Leo gave her a _duh _look.

"Can you honestly blame me?"

Piper opened her mouth to answer, but closed it again, blushing. Jason did likewise.

Frank put an arm round Hazel and grinned.

"Oh, don't you two start." Leo groaned.

Hazel smiled gently.

"Leo, I'm sure sure you'll get to see Calypso soon."

The son of Hephaestus spluttered.

"I'm not- this isn't- wait... Hang on, you can't just-"

"Zeus' firecrackers, I hope you're not going to be that lovey-dovey while I'm here. It's all so sickeningly sweet - I'm going to develop a toothache." said a familiar girl's voice. The demigods whirled around as one.

Thalia Grace was leaning against the door frame, smirking.

"Thalia!" Jason whooped, engulfing his sister in a bear hug. The daughter of Zeus grinned, squeezing him back.

"Hey, little bro'," she said "Miss me?"

Jason scowled.

"You know, we're practically twins now, considering you spent most of your age difference with me as a tree."

"Ah, but once big sister, always big sister, Jason, darling." She glanced over to the others and waved. "Hey guys."

They all called out greetings, and Annabeth hugged her friend with the same enthusiasm as Jason's.

"I heard you kicked Gaia's big muddy ass," Thalia said, "Even my dad said that the gods couldn't do much against her."

"It was all Leo," Piper said proudly, ruffling his black curls "he had it all figured out. He and Festus managed to lure Gaia into the air, while I... uh, sang her a lullaby, and Jason kept her from going back down. At one point, Jason and I had to go back onto the ground, so Leo single-handedly caused this absolutely ginormous firestorm-"

"Which I couldn't have done if you hadn't charmed her into a coma." Leo mumbled.

"-and then, as an extra-special child of Hephaestus, lived to tell the tale!"

Thalia looked impressed, but Leo just looked embarrassed. And sad. No doubt the re-telling of his triumph over Gaia had sharpened the pain of his failure to find Calypso, Percy thought.

"What are you doing here, Thalia?" Percy asked, frowning. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, but aren't you supposed to be off with the Hunters of Artemis and, you know, hunting? Preferably unfriendly monsters?"

Thalia shrugged, but her gaze saddened.

"Since Phoebe and the others were killed by Orion, there's been a considerable shift in the hunters' rank infrastructure." she informed them. "Lady Artemis has nominated some new officers to replace those who died, but Chiron asked to see me, so she gave me leave to come here."

"And I'm very glad you did," said another voice. Chiron the centaur/teacher/mentor/chief counselor clip-clopped into the basement, wearing the upper half of a formal suit and the horse part of his body for once free of his TARDIS-like wheelchair. He took his position at the head of the ping pong table, looking at them all with his usual kind gaze, but there was something about his demeanour that told Percy he hadn't called them to organize a table-tennis tournament.

"Thank you all for coming so promptly, though some of you took your time," he glanced at Percy and Nico, who exchanged a _told you so _look, "but we are once more in a delicate situation. Rachel Dare IM'd me about an hour ago, saying that she and the harpy Ella had found a particularly interesting prophecy. Rachel says that though the voice of Delphi is gone, she still has the spirit of the oracle inside her, and she can tell that this prophecy is on the verge of coming true - if it hasn't already."

He paused, and took a scroll of paper from his pocket. The demigods were silent, partly out of respect for their mentor, but mostly out of slight dread and dawning disappointment: another prophecy meant more conflict, more danger, more lives lost...

"She read it out to me, and these are the contents.

"_The Dark Lord, once beaten, now come_

_Once more for power, for blood, for none_

_Nine will react, and nine will return_

_Across the sea lest the world will churn_

_Magic will suffer, magic will rise_

_B__ut to the stag, the storm, fire and death,_

_The might of darkness will meet its demise_

_United, as one, Olympian, eagle, lion and snake_

_Will decide for good or ill the magical fate"_

If the demigods had been silent beforehand, it was nothing compared to the utter confusion among them now. After several full seconds of total lack of noise, Annabeth spoke first.

"This Dark Lord... I've no idea who it could be - I mean, it sounds like it could be Hades." She glanced at Nico, who frowned but didn't disagree. "But the description is wrong. '_Once beaten, has now come__'_. That can't be him, and all this about magic... Does it mean the Mist is in danger of disappearing?"

"And why did you call us, specifically?" Piper asked quietly, though her expression made it clear she feared she might already know.

Chiron sighed.

"This prophecy forces me to reveal to you what the gods would hide from you - from all demigods. They have kept it secret for decades, centuries even, because the knowledge would have destroyed any semblance of peace between nations, mortals and demigods. This secret was guarded all the more closely ever since the second world war, which as you know involved some powerful demigods, because in those few years, the world experienced a mere fraction of what it would suffer should this information be divulged."

Chiron paused. Leo's hands were tapping the table-top. Percy knew him well enough by now to know that it was Morse code, but he had no idea what it said. _Hurry the hell up_, probably. If so, Percy agreed with the sentiment. The tension was rising as the demigods waited in utter silence for the centaur to reveal this life-changing secret.

Oblivious to the tension and growing annoyance of the assembled demigods, Chiron absently played with a stray ping-pong ball. His lined face was furrowed in worry, and he seemed to be somewhere else entirely.

"I hope I'm doing the right thing..." he muttered. "But if some of the gods found out, they would find even Tartarus too good for me."

Thalia _tsked_, irritated.

"Well you can't back down now, you've given most of it away." she said, crossing her arms.

Chiron nodded, sadly and slowly, as if Atlas' burden had suddenly decided to take up residence on his shoulders.

"I am well aware," he said gravely. "But in the millenia I have lived, I have never truly come to terms with how leadership and counseling in wartime also meant that at times, only you can make the decisions. Sometimes they are easy, other times not so. It can be a choice between the life of a loved one or that of a hundred innocent strangers. It can be having to choose whether to save a starving besieged city or preserving your own exhausted army. It can mean choosing between disease, famine or immediate death. In those cases, one can never truly make the right decision, because there is no 'right', and there is no 'wrong' to it. They're just decisions based purely on statistics, and the answer is always to choose the option that seems slightly less destructive than the others. If there's one thing I know, it's that those choices live with you forever, and when you die, people will remember you by those decisions - whether you did the 'right' thing or not, whether you could have done any better. Whether you had any choice at all. Today, this morning, anther choice has been set before me: do I tell you something that I swore to Zeus personally not to? Or do I ignore the prophecy, hoping that someone else will have heard it and will act on their own? Do I ask the gods for counsel? Do I choose the option I think best, and then hope that in the long term the gods of Olympus will recognize that it was a necessary course of action, and not a rash decision made on impulse in a moment of panic?"

He fell silent, while the demigods stared at him. For Percy's part, this was the first time he had ever heard Chiron open up so much. He loved the guy like almost like a father, or a four-legged part-horse uncle. But until that moment he had never really realized just how _old_ Chiron was. The centaur had trained heroes, fought wars, counseled great kings - of course he felt the burden of a warrior as much as other leaders did. In that moment, Percy pitied him. He felt bad for it, because an hour ago he never would have thought anyone in their right mind could pity Chiron, but right then and there, he did. If this was the first time Chiron had shared the pain of his burden as a military decision-maker, and it sure sounded like it, then Percy couldn't imagine just how heavy that burden must have got over the centuries. At least during their quests he and his friends had had each other to help make the tough choices. But Chiron had been alone, and that prompted Percy to promise himself to stand beside his old Classics teacher and defend his case, against the entire Olympian court if need be.

Chiron placed the flat of his hands on either side of the ping-pong ball and looked at each of them briefly in the eye. Finally, he spoke up again.

"Very well. For centuries, the wizarding world has been co-existing with our own. Its magic has always hidden wizards and witches from sight, much like the Mist does for us and monsters. Magic and the Mist are two different but similarly great forces, and both are the creations of Lady Hecate. Centuries ago, the goddess created her own race of people, people who would worship her and practice magic freely and for the good of all. In the beginning, the wizarding race were a blessing to humankind. Once their training was complete, wizards spread across the world, expanding magical knowledge, power, and the greatness of what wizards could achieve in every nation. Some reached China," he glanced at Frank, "and some reached America, well before the rest of the Europeans. Mortals came to know them as shamans, because in their tribes they acted as healers, oracles and wise-men." he was looking at Piper, who had Cherokee origins, as he said this.

"But as time went by, and mortals developed rumours about what magic could do, the approach to magic and wizards changed. Those who could use and control it started to get shunned, bullied, rejected as anomalies. Because magic is transferred genetically, whole families were thus exiled from their homes and regions. Of course, they had magic, so they could survive perfectly well without home comforts, and many wizards preferred to stay apart from mortals anyway, but they met hostility nearly everywhere, and the mortal governments of the time turned to official measures against them. Many were burned, though few were actual wizards, and many were executed for crimes they either had not committed or were not rightly crimes at all. The persecution of her people angered Hecate. It didn't help that for the past few hundred years humans had turned towards monotheism and nearly abandoned the notion of Greek gods except in art and fancy stories.

"So a few centuries ago - I am being _deliberately _vague, here, Valdez," he said dryly at Leo, who looked bewildered and a bit confused at this unanticipated history lesson. "A few centuries ago, Hecate told her people to hide. She taught them new ways of using magic to completely shield their existence from mortals, and often the trick was to hide in plain sight. Because they were tired of being constantly under suspicion, and because they owed her their powers, the wizarding folk all around the world obeyed her. Time went by as time does, and now the world thinks all they have left of wizards are rumours, cheap imitations, or pure myth, which is why we have such a clear but stereotypical idea of wizards and witches. They now co-exist in our world, breathe the same air and eat much the same food, but they have their own society, their own governments, schooling systems, currencies, health systems - even sports."

"Now, you must be wondering why the gods decided to keep it secret from all demigods. Even the children of Hecate don't know of the wizarding world's existence, but...why? After all, most demigods have powers of their own, they have a connection with Hecate through their godly parent, they also have a great creation of hers protecting them from detection. These were all pointed out to Hecate when she came to Zeus to ask him to support her in her decision to hide wizards from the world, but she said that the demigods' knowledge of the existence of the wizarding world would do more harm than good. The powerful, more ambitious and not necessarily...ah, _nice _demigods would try to exploit magic and use it to their own advantage, causing huge damage on earth and possibly to the gods themselves.

"The last bit especially convinced the gods, but even if it hadn't the second world war certainly did. What had happened in those years of wartime was in equal part due to demigod and wizard actions. Some of the mortals' leaders were very powerful demigods, whereas some wizards who had turned dark operated within their own society, provoking as much damage to their world as the humans and demigods did to ours. And all of that had happened _without _any interference between the two hidden communities. Can you imagine what would have happened if the Nazi demigods had gotten wind of ways to appear almost instantly on the other side of the planet? Or, for that matter, if American wizards had known sons of Poseidon could control the seas, and Zeus' children the sky?"

Chiron paused again. No-one said anything. There was no point, and besides, they were too stunned to speak.

"But those were military concerns, and in times of war. What concerned Hecate especially was normal, everyday life. Some wizards and witches are attracted to and have an unfortunate affinity with what many would call the Dark Arts. Those branches of magic delved into many different areas, including warfare, torture, and necromancy," Chiron shot a slightly apologetic glance at Nico, "but also healing, foretelling and protection - especially protection of their existence. In the dark ages, those particular brands of magic weren't considered especially dark - magic was purely a way of getting the things you needed, it didn't matter _how _you did it. But as the centuries turned, and the wizarding community increasingly stressed the moral use of magic, those types of magic were dubbed 'Dark', and severely frowned upon, if not banned completely. Some continued to use them, believing them to be more powerful than neutral and light magic, and that it gave them superiority over other wizards, not to mention mortals. Non-magical folk were to some wizards like rats are to humans: undesirable, pesky and thoroughly to be avoided. Over time, wizarding government systems banned the use of the Dark Arts completely; the occasional school still taught them to its students, but only the theory and always under strict regulations.

"Nevertheless, some wizards discovered a liking and ability for dark magic, and a few even succeeded in gaining enough power to challenge their government. Such was the case with Grindelwald, a wizard who turned dark and reached the peak of his power during the second world war. He was defeated, but as so often proved before, history repeated itself. In the last fifty years, another dark wizard, more powerful than any other the world had seen, rose to power in England and gathered armies full of magical beasts and dissatisfied magical folk who sympathized with his ideologies. Long story short, he was invincible for a time, and the atmosphere in the United Kingdom was horrible. Yet, fourteen years ago he was destroyed when his power backfired as he tried to eliminate a boy that had been prophesied to defeat him - or so everyone thought. This summer, about a month ago actually, this wizard returned. His name is Lord Voldemort."

Chiron fell silent. The nine demigods had yet to speak at all, and the silence stretched on for so long Percy's shell-shocked brain vaguely wondered if Kronos was up to his old tricks.

"I suppose it would be too much to hope for that this Dark dude is _not_, in fact, the guy from the prophecy Rachel and Ella found?" Leo asked suddenly, a pained but resigned expression on his impish features.

Annabeth shook her head.

"It's him, all right." she said. "It's obvious. Rachel said this prophecy was already happening, or on the verge of doing so. How many dark wizards have returned in the past month?"

Leo groaned and Morse-tapped _crap _on the tabletop. Even Percy knew that much.

"But why hide it from us?" Percy asked. "It's not like we would declare war on wizards."

"No, but it's about containing the knowledge as much as possible. Weren't you listening? Have you forgotten Octavian?" Annabeth answered, a bit exasperated. "If news spread among demigods that a wizarding world existed and vice-versa, imagine what that would mean to the demigods and wizards who want power, war, or revenge. They would seek allies, dabble in kinds of magic no-one but the gods should mess with, and all the while cause so much collateral damage it would be sure to start another world war."

"Kind of like why the gods kept the Roman and Greek demigods separate for ages," Thalia remarked, examining the string of her bow distractedly. "To stop us from tearing each other - and, in this case, the world - apart."

"A wizarding world, though..." Annabeth murmured. "This magical force must be _really_ powerful, maybe even more than the Mist. I mean, even knowing that it exists now doesn't make me remember _anything _that could have hinted at its existence. The Mist protects us as well, yeah, but it doesn't like, really _hide _us or anything. It just messes with mortals' minds."

"I think that may be what magic does too, actually." Hazel said thoughtfully. "Because when you think about it, how else could it work? It couldn't just make mortals _not_ see it, that would be silly. And it doesn't sound like it makes them forget whatever they happen to see. Maybe it just...hides the wizards in plain sight, and then somehow persuades mortals that anything they do see is either unworthy of their attention, or pure hallucination."

Leo looked alarmed.

"Oi, lady - you saying we've been seeing wizarding stuff our whole lives and then risking madness by telling ourselves we've only been imagining it?"

Piper laughed.

"Don't worry, Leo. I'm sure _you _don't need telling that what you see is pure fiction. What was that thing who said you'd seen yesterday, again? '_A giant seaweed monster who wants to eat me?'_ . Turned out it was just Blackjack who'd fallen off the dock and got tangled in a forest of kelp."

Leo blushed as the others laughed.

"Yeah, yeah..." he muttered. "But I'd like to see how _you _would react when a wet, slimy, shrieking thing with wings and four legs shoots out of the water and nearly runs you over."

Chiron cleared his throat.

"Uplifting as it is to see how you can take a life-changing revelation with humour," he said dryly, "perhaps we could get back on track? An immensely powerful dark wizard is planning to take over the UK, then probably Europe and the rest of the world, and all you daredevil demigods can do is make a reference to ponderous, panicking pegasi!"

Leo grinned.

"Dude, you are the _king _of alliteration."

"Valdez! Focus!"

"I can't, I'm ADHD."

"So are we all, but we don't get distracted at every opportunity we get-"

"What has alliteration got to do with-?"

"Besides, Chiron's good, but he's not the _king _of alliteration. I know someone in the Apollo cabin-"

"I wouldn't know, I'm dyslexic, but-"

"We're _all_ dyslexic, Grace."

"I'm not!" Frank said proudly.

Chiron's expression was getting stormier by the second, and his eyes flashed in a way even Zeus would be proud of. Percy sympathized. The guy had just told them one of the most closely-guarded secrets of Olympus, and here were the most powerful demigods of the century, arguing about rhetorical features.

"GUYS!" he shouted, holding both arms up. "Unless we want Lord Vol-au-vent to take over the world, we have to pay attention to our head of camp!"

"Lord _Voldemort_, Percy Jackson." Chiron said wearily. "But thank you for your clairvoyance."

The others quieted down a bit, and since it was clear Chiron hadn't finished his _Discovery of the Century's Greatest Dangers _presentation, they got ready to listen again.

"This prophecy is of utmost importance," Chiron continued. "You all heard what it said: _Nine shall react-_"

"_And nine shall return, across the sea lest the world will churn_." Annabeth completed, to nobody's surprise.

"Well we know one thing," Thalia muttered. "Whoever wrote this is _not _the oracle of Delphi, 'cause they suck at writing poetry."

"You think _we're _the nine demigods, the... '_Olympian_ _blood_' that the prophecy's talking about?" Annabeth asked quietly.

Chiron looked grave and didn't answer, but his silence was all they needed.

Thalia groaned.

"I was afraid you were gonna say that."

"But we've just been on a quest!" Percy protested. "You said this prophecy was utterly important or whatever, but a month ago we defeated _Gaia_. How much more important can this Dark guy be? Why is it demigods have to send help when wizards have always managed on their own?"

Everyone looked at him, surprised at his outburst. Percy winced.

"Look, guys. I'm sorry. I know that sounded selfish and petty or something, but we've only had a month of monster and giant-free time, and we're suddenly called upon to save a world we've never heard of!"

Nico cleared is throat.

"Actually," he sounded apologetic, "I have."

Everybody's heads swiveled to look at the son of Hades. It was like watching a vocal tennis match, and even Chiron looked stunned.

"Heard of-?"

"Yes." Nico replied. "I spent a lot of time in the Underworld, as you all know, and I noticed a few weird things no-one had ever mentioned in Greek - or Roman- mythology. When the shades of the dead gathered to cross the Styx, for example, I heard Charon asking questions to some of them, and occasionally one turned back and somehow walked out. Charon wouldn't tell me what that was all about, so I...er, sort of ambushed a shade who turned her back on him and tried to walk out. She was a ghost and everything," he assured them, "dead, you know. But she was still quite like a living person, because she looked what she must have looked like when she died, clothes and makeup and all, only grey and... well, ghost-like. I asked her what made her think she could leave the Underworld, and she got all angry, saying it was her choice to go back, she wanted to see her family and home again. Now that I think of it, pretty much all of the shades Charon talked to like that were angry or really scared, but anyway, _she _got the anger prize. Shades aren't supposed to be loud, that's just the way it is, but she was yelling her her head off at me - literally, 'cause it looked like she'd been beheaded - and in the end I just let her go to save my ears.

"I figured she would eventually realize she couldn't leave the Underworld then come back, and that Charon had just refused her because she didn't have an obol, so I sort of forgot about her and the few others I'd seen like that. But a few months ago, I saw the same thing again, and I asked Charon if he ever saw those dead people again. He shook his head, and I could tell he wasn't going to tell me any more about it, but one of the shades he'd spoken to started asking me all sorts of questions. Why was I still alive, was this really the world of the dead, was _he_ dead, etc... I told him it was, and that yes _he_ was, and he just lost it, ranting on about how he was a great lord when he was alive and how he deserved better than this. I let him talk, because it was a way of finding out whatever Charon wasn't telling me, and he was just spouting the most ridiculous things I'd ever heard of - like how a spell had backfired and killed him, but he'd used it for years and never hurt anyone, that it must have been his wand that went faulty."

Chiron was utterly still, staring at Nico so blankly Percy wondered if he'd been anywhere near Medusa's head lately.

Nico looked uncomfortable.

"I, er...didn't think he was entirely sane, so I just left him there to deal with it - after all, everyone does - and forgot about it all, thinking that even a son of Hades shouldn't know everything about the underworld, that it was only fair in a way. But now," Nico concluded, "I think back and realize that he must have been a wizard, that all those angry or scared shades must have been magical, because they were just so much more substantial and quite frankly bizarre. There was no way they were ordinary mortals. Even dead demigods don't look and act like they did. Which means," he said more seriously, "that wizards must have a different concept of death. Those shades who decided to walk out of the Underworld - and succeeded, for all we know - chose to come back to the world of the living as ghosts. I'm sure of it. And that puts this whole prophecy thing in a different perspective, because-"

"Because this Lord Voldemort was destroyed fourteen years ago, and I'm willing to bet you were about to say you've never felt his death." Annabeth said, paling slightly.

Nico nodded.

"I never knew wizards existed," Nico said, looking at Chiron, who was still impersonating the Athena Parthenos in its immobility. "But a dark lord, especially one as powerful as you say, would have had some sort of effect on me, and Bianca. We were both really young and stuck in that casino when it happened, but even then I remember we sometimes felt twinges that we came to realize were signs that someone important or close to us had died." He fidgeted with the Stygian iron blade at his side. "I'm not saying this Voldemort was close to me or anything, but _that _much power snuffing out just does not go unnoticed in the underworld, nor by its children. He didn't die, but by all laws of nature and probably magic, he should have. Guys," he said, looking at them all in turn. "We're somehow looking at an immortal human."

Thalia snorted.

"An immortal human?" she said. "Whoever heard of such a thing? You can only be immortal if born some sort of nature spirit or made so by the gods."

"Which is why," Chiron finally joined in, "we must ask ourselves, can the wizarding world truly defeat this Dark Lord by itself? Will the demigods, who have extensive experience in fighting both monsters and immortals, leave them to this fate? And if wizards cannot prove up to the task, must we wait until Lord Voldemort gains his full strength and then proceeds to take over the international wizarding worlds, while we stay here, climbing the lava wall and living in the muted fear that one day Voldemort may discover the existence of demigods and Olympus?"

Once again, silence descended as the demigods took this in. Chiron always had a way of rationalizing things. Usually, that skill made things clearer and more straightforward to decide, but this time it only opened a hundred other doors, each filled with so many questions and 'if' situations that the whole Gaia affair seemed quite familiar in its way. After all, they had know exactly who she was, _what _she was, who her main agents were, some elements of her complicated plans - and especially, they'd had occasional help from the gods and other anti-Gaia immortals.

This was exactly what Annabeth pointed out to Chiron.

"So in effect, you'd be sending us into a desert with a a towel to share and a toothbrush each." she said.

Jason grinned.

"Well, to be fair, if he _did _do that, Percy could summon up water, Nico could provide shade, Thalia could hunt us some snakes to eat, and I could make a breeze. Frank and Hazel would be perfect bodyguards too, and Leo and Annabeth together could figure out a machine out of there in about an hour."

"Let's please not give the gods any ideas, though." Percy mumbled, thinking of Tartarus. "I've had enough of water-less wastelands for a lifetime. Two lifetimes. No, ten."

"We have literally no idea what this wizarding world is like, how it works, how we would fit in if at all, and how real wizards would receive us." Annabeth went on, ignoring her immature friend and boyfriend.

Piper slapped her forehead, as though she'd had a brainwave.

"I don't even know why we're discussing this!" she cried. "Because how on earth are we supposed to help the wizards defeat Voldemort while trying to keep a low profile when _we're not wizards ourselves_? It would be like trying to attack Persephone in her own palace while pretending to be dead like all her other servants!"

"This may sound uncooperative, but that has actually been attempted," Frank mumbled.

"Not helping, Zhang!"

"Sorry."

Hazel huffed.

"Don't apologize, Frank. Like you, Piper, I cannot believe we're discussing this so much, but for entirely different reasons. There has been a _prophecy_." she pointed out clearly. "That means it _cannot _be ignored, nor changed, nor interpreted too hastily. If we are the nine demigods it's talking about, then we have no choice. We've got to help the wizards."

"You're only saying that because you sympathize with other people who have magic," Leo said, frowning. "I mean, you use the Mist and all, but it's still a super-mysterious creation of Hecate's."

Hazel looked slightly hurt.

"Leo, I think we should help because it's our _duty _as much as a matter of compassion!"

"Spoken like a Roman." Thalia said gloomily, picking at her nails, painted black and silver that day.

"What's wrong with Roman?" Franks asked testily.

"Nothing. Except you tend to confuse duty and moral obligation. Loyalty and stupidity. Not to mention orders and friendly advice. That sort of thing."

Hazel was fuming, and about to retort sharply, but Annabeth stepped in hastily with her hands held out in peace.

"Guys, please don't destroy in one afternoon what we fought to achieve for over a year."

Hazel grudgingly remained silent, while Frank looped an arm around her, glaring at Thalia, who shrugged and made an _It's true, mate_ gesture.

Chiron heaved a long-suffering sigh and rubbed his temples.

"Going back to Piper's earlier point," he said tiredly. "Yes, it's true you're not wizards, but you're not the only ones aware of the prophecy so far. Rachel told me as soon as she realized it was important, but Ella doesn't know anything of its significance, so I contacted the gods of Olympus. They urge us to take the decision for ourselves, but insisted Hecate should help, since it was her world in danger. The goddess has agreed to bless you with the gift of magic should you decide to help. You would retain your original powers, of course, but you would also be able to use magic in the same way as wizards."

Piper looked like she was dying to say something, so Chiron gestured for her to speak.

"But _how_, exactly, are we going to help?" she asked. "We can't just get there on the _Argo II_ and hang out until Lord Voldemort launches an attack. We'd be seen. We'd be questioned. It's way too risky."

"Says the girl who participated in some of the riskiest quests in history since Zeus discovered lightning bolts." Jason muttered under his breath. Piper elbowed him in the ribs.

"I was getting to that." Chiron replied. "Despite the utter secrecy around the matter, some people, including myself, have knowledge of the wizarding world. These are few and far between, but we do keep tabs on some aspects of it. The initial rise of Voldemort we followed closely, for instance. We learned that the boy Voldemort tried to destroy after murdering his parents all those years ago is still alive. He's currently studying at the best school of magic in the world, Hogwarts."

Leo sniggered. Everyone else looked at him blankly.

"Oh, come on," he said, still laughing. "Get it, anyone? Hogwarts? Like a pig's skin condition?" He laughed again, clearly finding the name hilarious. Percy would've as well, but Annabeth was giving him the _don't you dare_ glare.

Piper raised an eyebrow.

"Leo Valdez, you are _so _immature." she said loftily.

"Lady, I _invented _immature! Girls luuurve immature! I'm so immature they always want to kiss me and call me babe!"

"Watch out, or I'll do just that." Thalia said darkly. "And you should know, among the huntresses, a 'kiss' means something to do with these lovely, sharp, knives." She held up her dagger, her eyes glinting dangerously.

Leo gulped.

"I'm...all right, thanks. Keep your kisses, I'm sure some monster wouldn't want them, anyway."

"Yes, getting back to Hogwarts," Chiron said hurriedly before Thalia could retaliate, "the boy's name is Harry Potter. The entire future of the wizarding world depends on him. If you were to help the wizards, your first and foremost task would be to attend Hogwarts and protect him from any harm. The headmaster at Hogwarts is reportedly the best and wisest wizard in the world. Persuade him to give you a place in the school - Miss McLean, I believe your powers will be most useful if he proves difficult to convince - and attend classes, study and make friends like you would in any school."

"So not much, then." Percy joked, but his brain was racing. This Harry Potter kid, the key to saving the wizarding world? "So... we'd just be really elaborate bodyguards?"

Annabeth smirked.

"Don't sound so disappointed, Seaweed Brain. The fate of the world can't _always_ depend on you or Jason."

"I'm not disappointed!" he protested. "If anything I'm relieved, but I don't understand-"

"Story of my life, yours, and everyone else in this room." Nico commented idly.

"-I don't understand why so many of us have to protect this Potter kid when we should be... I dunno, fighting Voldemort's minions or something. Nine demigod bodyguards seems a bit much, especially if he survived a murder attack by the darkest lunatic in history when he was, like, tiny."

Chiron nodded.

"I agree, Percy, but the situation is almost entirely different now. Voldemort has returned - that is a fact, not a possibility or even a question - stronger and better prepared than before. He used dark magic and an even darker spell to regain his body, absorbing some of the boy's blood as insurance. His past weakness has become his strength. There is next to no safety left for Harry Potter, because while the boy lives, so does Voldemort, yet he is a constant threat to the Dark Lord, because of his special connection to him."

"Connection?" Percy asked, frowning. "You're saying they're related?"

Chiron waved a hand around impatiently.

"Everyone is pretty much related in the wizarding world-" ("Ew," muttered Thalia.) "-but Harry Potter has a special connection with Voldemort because the boy absorbed some of his powers when he was destroyed. Don't ask, I have no idea how. Ask the lady Hecate if you see her. But the point is, their minds are connected, a bit like-"

"A bit like the empathy link between me and Grover?" Percy guessed,

Chiron hesitated.

"In the vaguest possible way, yes, but-"

"Like me and Gaia, then." Leo suggested. "I witnessed her murder my mom, and during this whole Great Prophecy Quest thing it was me she often looked for in the first few months."

"And you defeated her in the end," Piper said, smiling a bit. "Dare I hope that that could be a good omen for the wizarding world?"

"Yes, yes, if you like, similar to Leo and Gaia. But as I was saying," Chiron pressed on, "the point is that their minds are connected: sometimes Harry gets flashes of Voldemort's moods or thoughts. It's only a matter of time before the Dark Lord realizes what's happening, and when he does, Harry will be in even greater danger. His safety is _essential_," Chiron slapped the table for emphasis, "in ensuring any positive future for the wizarding world."

"Gh." said Thalia, stretching her head back until it butted against the wall. She sounded put-out, but resigned. "So we don't really have a choice in the matter. Hazel's right: we can't ignore it, and if we somehow do, we'll never forgive ourselves."

"There is always a choice." Chiron said gravely. "And in this case, the choice is yours. My role was to guide you and give you some semblance of an explanation. You all know the facts. Choose. But one things must be stressed," he warned, eyeing each of them in turn, "nine must go, or nine must stay. You are the nine, that much is clear. If but one of you chooses not to aid the wizarding world, the other eight cannot go alone."

"Eight is hardly alone." Leo muttered, crossing his arms, but no-one argued with what Chiron had said.

As for Percy, he was going through he same agonizing choice as the others. Study with Annabeth in New York, or fight and risk your life again? Help thousands of innocent people you've never met in a country he'd never been to, or stay and protect his home? Get bored in maths, or get bored in astronomy or whatever they taught at Hogwarts? Help Harry Potter, the light of the wizarding world, or make daisy chains with dryads?

He looked at Annabeth. She had that look he knew so well and loved. _A__s long as we're together, _it said, _we can do anything._

Percy shrugged, then nonchalantly grinned and put an arm around her waist.

"Well, I don't know about you guys," he said, "but we're in!"

Piper and Jason exchanged one final look and nodded as one.

"Count us in, too."

Hazel and Frank smiled slightly, holding hands.

"You're not going anywhere without us," Hazel said sweetly.

Leo whooped and punched the air.

"Yeah! Let's kick some Dark Lord butt! Team Leo is IN, baby!"

Nico and Thalia rolled their eyes, then looked at each other.

"Well," Nico said finally, "If Camp Half-Blood is my home now, and this Dark Lord is threatening it even partially, I'm going as well. Besides," he added, his dark eyes glittering dangerously. "I want to meet the guy who managed to escape my dad."

Thalia smirked.

"And I'm not letting my baby brother getting all the glory again." she declared.

Chiron's mouth stretched into a wide smile, and his chest puffed out with pride.

"I never doubted any of you!" he said. "I realize that you need rest and time to recover from last month's quest, but prophecies always have a knack of arriving at exactly the wrong time."

"Or the right time, depending on how you look at it." Hazel remarked. "Rachel did discover it just in time to warn us, didn't she? Summer's nearly over."

"Quite. And as for rest, I wouldn't worry. Despite being all about magic, Hogwarts is first and foremost a school. Attending classes will be fruitcake compared to what you've all had to deal with lately."

Percy groaned.

"Oh, man, I'd forgotten about that. How are we supposed to study magic if we know strictly nothing about it?"

"We'll do what every person does when they breach a new subject, Percy." Annabeth said calmly. "We'll study."

"How? We can barely read in English." Percy grumbled.

"We'll manage. A daughter of Athena does not back down from an academic challenge, nor does she allow others to do so."

Thalia smirked.

"Practiced in front of the mirror, have you?"

"No. Other people, actually."

"Touché."

"The goddess Hecate will provide means of transport for you to reach Hogwarts," Chiron said, back to business. "Once there, ask to see the headmaster, then somehow convince him to take you in. Locate Harry Potter and protect him at all costs. Any signs of activity from Voldemort, report to me. I will give you enough drachmas for you to IM the camp as often as you like, and if there are any signs of a battle, contact us before anything else. The gods know what you are going through, and will deal with any issues you report back to them quickly and discreetly."

Percy grinned.

"The gods? Discreet? That I have yet to see."

Annabeth nudged him.

"Careful." she muttered.

"What? It's a compliment!"

"Well, don't shout it any louder, 'cause the gods will take it as a challenge, dude." Leo says wisely. "It's like when Piper once said Well, at least we're safe, aren't we? Then _thwack_, Sciron's arrow nearly impales her braids."

Piper flapped her hands around. "Don't!" she cried. "I keep wanting to bury my head in the sand every time I think of that!"

"While you are in the wizarding world, you must be on your guard at all times," Chiron warned. "You cannot afford to make mistakes - one of them could result in the harm or death of Harry Potter. You must ally yourselves to him. Befriend him, but don't get too close: blowing your cover would be the most disastrous thing that could happen. Is that clear?"

They all nodded, but Leo cleared his throat.

"Wouldn't that be the death of Harry Potter? The most disastrous thing that could happen, I mean."

Chiron shook his head slightly.

"As important as his safety is, that is primarily the headmaster's responsibility, and Harry's own. You must guard him, yes, but only so far as you can. Do not make it obvious you are protecting him, stay at a distance. Befriend his friends, make allies of them. Get to know his enemies if he has any at school, make arrangements with them. Who knows? Maybe even turn their relations to your advantage. You are all old enough and certainly experienced enough to know the importance of reliable allies and sound deals. I am in part entrusting you with the safety of Harry Potter, but I am also setting you the task of establishing a net of spies, informers, friends and reinforcements. You will no doubt meet relatives of Ancient Greece and Rome creatures - see if they can be of any help. Use your demigod powers as much as you like, but - and this goes without saying - _never_ make them obvious. Keep a low profile."

Chiron looked as grave as ever.

"War is coming. That is clear also. Lord Voldemort will not be defeated without battles on a large scale. You must prepare your surroundings as well as yourselves. Learn to defend yourselves using magic as well as practicing your regular powers - take full advantage of the excellent education you will get be getting at Hogwarts."

The nine demigods glanced around at each other, some gulping, others unnerved at this new and highly-strategic approach to war. Thalia, Nico and Frank looked impassive, but Percy knew them well enough to know that they too were aware of the magnitude of the task set to them.

"Well, I've always wanted to be a spy." Leo said after a few moments, grinning. "Guess throwing us in the deep is the only way we'll learn, isn't it?"

Percy snorted. "That's one way to put it. But guys, this is huge. It's not a quest, it's a real, top-secret mission. This time, we won't have someone or something to look for and bring back – and we certainly won't have as much help as we've had during quests so far. This… we're not prepared for this; it's like the Ancient Greek version of the CIA."

Annabeth's eyebrows rose.

"Percy Jackson, taking something seriously from the beginning? Well, now I've seen everything."

"Ah, don't worry guys." Jason said shrugging, his mouth stretching into a smile. "We can deal with the difficulties as they come; for now, all we need to do is concentrate on the first thing: infiltrate Hogwarts. And I have yet to see a day when the nine of us together have failed to achieve what we wanted."

Hazel nodded. "He's right." She said solemnly, holding Frank's hand. "We were the Seven of the Great Prophecy, and Thalia and Nico are children of the Zeus and Hades. Together, there's nothing we can't do."

Nico winced slightly at her words. Thalia noticed.

"Don't worry, Nico. What Hazel's trying to say is that no matter what, we have each other's back. We're all allowed to be something of a loner," she said, smiling in a way that contrasted greatly with her usual tough attitude, "but only as long as someone's there to pull us out of trouble."

Chiron was looking proudly at them all.

"It gladdens an old centaur's heart to see such solidarity." he declared. "This is what camp Half-Blood was founded for. It is a haven to permit demigods to train to be heroes, certainly, but also to form ties of friendship stronger than magic, longer-lasting than life, and deeper than the roots of Gaia. It saddens me to know how, but I believe that through your individual adventures you have already discovered how the true keys to success are trust, and friendship. Without them, there are no alliances, no victories, nothing to be gained."

Hazel, Annabeth and Piper, best friends since the whole Gaia business, looked at each other knowingly. The three were virtually inseparable now, and Percy knew their ties of friendship reached further than he, ignorant male that he was, could ever fathom. Much of it, he knew, was due to their occasionally unsettling ability to communicate with looks and tiny signals alone. Such attempts made between Percy, Jason, Frank or the others floundered completely unless one of the girls was there to translate. Percy was getting slightly better at interpreting Annabeth's body language, but he had seen entirely non-verbal conversations between her and Piper that had often ended up with the two girls working in harmony, and a very confused Percy. He sighed a bit wistfully. It would've been great to have communication skills similar to those of girls – very useful for battlefields and arguments.

"That's settled, then." Percy said. "So. How are we getting to Hogwarts?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Author's Note:**

**Hi guys. Wow! I really did not expect that much feedback so early on. I am currently _so_ chuffed. **

**So here's the second chapter. A bit long, but I think it needed the elaboration.**

**Any comments, criticisms, queries and sassy points, please leave them in a review or PM me.**

**Thank you Hamers, sayo, White Winter Star, Crimson Gamma, Lightningscar, HungarianBaron, Midnight Phantasma, Guest, yami2703, Rumpilstiltskin and Benevolent Dreamer. Your reviews were brilliant and made my day.**

**Guest: I think you'll be surprised at what I've decided for our favourite demigods... Let me know if you have any objections.**

**Rumpilstiltskin: Thank you so much :) Keep your own writing coming!**

**Benevolent Dreamer: Thanks; I'm really looking forward to it :)**

**Here we go then, I hope you like it.**

* * *

><p>"Are you serious?" Percy asked.<p>

He and his friends were standing on Camp Half-Blood Hill, which acted as a border between the mortal world and the demigods' safe haven. An hour had passed since Chiron had dismissed them, wishing them all the luck in the world, and most of them had spent the time packing or saying their goodbyes to their friends. The Romans had left a few days ago, but Hazel and Frank had stayed behind, wanting to get to know Camp Half-Blood better, to see what all the fuss had been about on the _Argo II._

Packing had been a fairly quick affair, Chiron having told them not to take any bags or anything other than strictly necessary, but instead to conceal any important items on their persons. The only one with a bag was Thalia, but seeing as it was actually her bow and quiver in disguise, no-one challenged her over it. Annabeth had her baseball cap screwed onto her head (it had started working again, now that the gods were slightly less mad with pain), Leo had his tool-belt, Frank had hidden various small weapons on himself, and Hazel was empty-handed - or, at least, seemed so. Percy had Riptide, obviously, Nico his Stygian iron sword, Jason his own blade, and Piper her dagger. Percy hoped that the Mist still worked in the wizarding world, 'cause walking around with swords and knives at your side would get kind of awkward if it didn't.

Percy was the only one so far who had voiced any reaction to what, or rather who, was standing before them - the others were too taken aback to speak. Which, knowing Leo and his unflappable readiness to joke at absolutely anything, was saying something.

The goddess Hecate, for it was she, stared calmly at Percy, her blond hair gently swaying in a non-existent breeze. It was pretty much the first time Percy was meeting her, since he'd been mostly unconscious or busy reeling around in pain on the House of Hades' floor the last time she'd been near the demigods, but his hazy memories corresponded exactly to how she looked now: tall, impassive, and mysterious.

"What surprises you, son of Poseidon?" she asked. Her weasel scampered up her arm to curl around her neck and settled her head at the base of the goddess' throat. If Percy remembered correctly, that weasel had severe gastric problems, so it was a mystery to him as to why Hecate let it stay so close. The weasel's beady eyes glittered in the sunlight, and it bared its pointy teeth at the dumbstruck demigods, chattering softly.

Percy hesitated. One did not go insulting a goddess' solutions to problems, even when said solutions seemed more dangerous that the problem itself. He'd learned that the hard way.

"Er. Well," he said articulately, "isn't that a bit of a, um... strange way of travelling? You basically told us to hold hands and shut our eyes while you somehow teleport us to a school thousands of miles away protected by the most ancient magic there is."

He could almost hear Annabeth roll her eyes. _Seaweed Brain, this is the _goddess _of magic you're talking to, remember?_

The goddess nodded, her unnaturally pale face as calm as ever.

"That is correct."

"But isn't that supposed to be, like, impossible?"

Hecate raised an eyebrow.

"You question my power?"

"Um... no, no, no! It's just, er...what do we have to do, click our ruby slippers and call ourselves Dorothy? "

Annabeth elbowed him in the ribs, and Piper stepped forward before Percy could make it any worse.

"My lady," she said smoothly, "please forgive Percy, he's just unused to magic and your power, having only just returned from Tartarus the last time we met. I think what he _meant_ to say," she shot him a pointed look, "was that we were told Hogwarts was pretty much impregnable. I imagine he wasn't expecting such a simple solution to our problem."

Hecate waved a hand around carelessly, and a flaming torch suddenly appeared in her palm.

"And rightly so." she said. "Hogwarts is a school of witchcraft and wizardry, its secrets and its pupils must be closely hidden and kept safe. Indeed it would be impossible for any mortal to breach the castle's security without my help, but seeing as I not only am the patron of magic but also offer you my aid willingly, your journey to Hogwarts will not be a challenge."

The light of her torch reflected in her eyes, making the pupils dance slightly. Were she not a goddess, Percy would have wondered why the fire was showing up so brightly - it was the middle of the afternoon, but Hecate's light glowed as fiercely as though it burned in the darkest of nights. Her black eyes surveyed them one by one, and her features became slightly sterner.

"The real challenge will be once you enter the castle, for enter you will if you use your minds and powers alike. You will find enemies, friends and allies, but I need not tell you how some may appear friendly at first while hiding a darker nature. I offered to aid you at the very start of your quest because never before has such a quest been bestowed upon demigods. For the first time in history, mortal or magical, demigods, mortals and wizards will work together to save magic. Many will not know they will be doing so," she smiled slightly, "but co-operate they will."

She gestured at them all.

"Chiron will no doubt have told you how the fate of magic now rests in your hands, and in your hands only. Since the wizards are my people and in effect my children, I cannot interfere and take sides among my own, but you can. The wizard who has returned is a user of Dark magic, one who has sacrificed what was left of his humanity long ago by mortal standards. He has ceased to use my creation as it ought to be used, and instead uses it to gain power, kill innocents and achieve his own gains only. He is, of course, not the first one to have done so, but never before has a wizard delved so deeply in the Dark Arts. He is a wizard, but a follower of mine only in name. His misuse of magic and the means to achieve his aims make him a disgrace to my kind, and he must be defeated, even if I cannot have any part in his demise."

The goddess was still steadily staring at them, but after a few seconds more Leo cleared his throat.

"Um, sorry. But aren't you the goddess of _all _kinds of magic, like necromancy and witchcraft and all that? This Dark guy, I suppose he used the kind of magic that was made possible by your powers. Doesn't that make it awkward how he's supposed to be destroyed because he explored something you put...in front of...him?" He faltered a little, quailing a bit under the intensity of Hecate's gaze.

"Young demigod, I would have you know I do not have to explain myself to young mortals such as yourselves."

Leo's lips quirked almost imperceptibly. Percy nearly rolled his eyes. Here we go again, he thought. Gods not having an answer to queries and taking the easy way out by ignoring pointed questions.

"However," Hecate continued. "This is a quest only I can fully understand, though even as a goddess I cannot stop this Dark Lord by myself. I recognize you too must understand the task to succeed. Very well. Voldemort," she said, "is no longer strictly human. He is no longer even mortal, having tampered with powers not even the gods should be able to use - excluding myself, of course. Nico son of Hades has rightly guessed he can no longer die: Voldemort crafted himself a path that allowed him to outskirt death, even though it cost him the lives of loyal followers, his body, his sanity, and finally the last remnants of humanity he had left. In nature, appearance, and all but name Voldemort is now more a monster than a person. His existence and growing power mean the bloodshed of wizards and ordinary mortals alike, and more lives lost than can possibly be explained in the mortal world, however vast the power of the Mist. By making himself immortal, Voldemort has stretched the limits between mortals and gods almost to breaking point. Mortals have attempted to achieve immortality before," her lips thinned, "and anyone who enters the Underworld can hear the cries of Sisyphus as he endures his punishment. I am the goddess of magic, of the Mist, and of the thin limits between them and the mortal world. I offer my help because Voldemort has disrespected those limits, and for that hubris he will be punished, for no mortal nor wizard with the slightest shred of humanity would have upset the balance I had established."

"So basically, you gods are once more in trouble, and you need demigods to sort it out for you because you can't." Percy summed up. He didn't care that he sounded rude or offensive. This whole 'gods need mortals more than mortals need gods' thing was starting to seriously annoy him, because it meant that all the hard work was left to demigods - who were, by all rights, little more than children - while the gods stayed away and expected them to succeed where they failed. It was madness. It was unfair. It was-

"It is the way it is, Percy Jackson." Hecate said, her face still impassive. "As much as the gods hate to allow it, they need the help of their children to stop Voldemort in his tracks. But find solace, if you will, in that this quest decides the fate of magic, and by extension that of the world as well. For once, it is no petty dispute of the gods, but a matter every single one of you here should hold close to their heart."

Something in the way she talked about the gods made Percy suspect she didn't consider herself one of them,. Then he remembered: Annabeth had once patiently - well, not really - told him about the origins of the gods, and now he recalled something about Hecate actually being a titan. Besides, she had been on Kronos' side during the Titan war and rumour had it she hadn't gone back to the Olympian side out of good will.

"So, how do we do this?" Annabeth asked, grabbing Percy's hand and gripping it tightly, a silent warning not to speak anymore.

Hecate motioned for them to gather closer, and she started making circular motions with the torch at her side. The light of the fire grew brighter, and the colours changed from warm gold to blinding white and icy blue, the sheer luminescence of the flames leaving multi-coloured streaks in the demigods' visions. They did as they were bid and moved into a circle, holding hands and closing their eyes. The fire from Hecate's torch now glowed too brightly to look at it, and as the nine teenagers huddled together, Hecate spun her torch faster and faster, rapidly creating a circular gap in the air, like a window that looked out on sheer light. She slowed her spinning, but the gap she had created carried on spinning, faster and faster until all movement faded into one glowing disk of something that was neither air, space, nor light. It was magic.

Hecate glided towards the halo of spinning light, placing herself directly behind it.

"Follow my voice." she called out to the demigods. "Do not open your eyes, for seeing magic in its purest of forms will lose you your vision. Walk towards me; do not be scared. My power will see you safely to Hogwarts, but as you travel do not let go of each other. While you are in the aether, what little reality you have left lies in yourselves and in your companions. Let them go and you relinquish all that you know, and you will drift indefinitely in timeless space. Come, come closer. Feel the magic and let it guide you; do not interfere. Young demigods, you are doing the gods a great service, to me especially. I thank you on behalf of the wizarding world, and may Ananke guide you."

Percy kept his eyes as tightly shut as he could, gripping Annabeth's hand in his right one and Thalia's in the left. He felt his feet walk almost of their own volition, responding to the goddess' nearly hypnotic voice. His friends around him moved as well, following Hecate's voice and the pull of her magic. They took a few more steps that seemed to stretch on for eternity, and finally the aether grew so bright Percy's eyelids hardly seemed like a sufficient shield from the light. He took one more step, and suddenly gravity ceased to exist. He felt his body lurch into nothingness, and the girls on either side of him slammed into his ribs as they fell through too. He bit his tongue to stop himself from yelling - it wasn't very dignified, and he didn't want to expose himself to the aether any more than absolutely necessary. Percy gripped Annabeth and Thalia's hands more tightly than ever and forced his eyes to remain shut, which was starting to get harder than it ought to. As he and his friends tumbled and spun like in an über-speed washing machine, the light around them increased, if possible, in intensity, until their eyelids felt like they were about to burn to a crisp.

For how long their journey went on for, Percy couldn't tell. For the whole time - if time even existed in this place - he was only aware of Annabeth's hand in his own, the searing light threatening to pierce his eyes, and the increasing need for oxygen, because it was apparently impossible to breathe while they were being aether-flown through half a world. Finally, when Percy was just thinking how he would faint or quite possibly die if this went on for much longer, the whirling light stopped, and his feet slammed into something solid once more.

Percy stumbled, accidentally letting go of Thalia's hand as he crashed to the floor. He opened his eyes just in time to see grass, and the next thing he knew he was face-down on a lawn, his tongue tasting earth, and his nose sore. Next to him, someone he couldn't see gave a shout and there was a loud splash, followed by laughter. He lay there, stunned for a few moments, hardly able to process what had just happened. Hecate, the goddess of magic, had just transported them across thousands of miles in little more than seconds. He supposed he shouldn't be too surprised: Hermes, Zeus and Nico had pretty fast ways of travelling as well. But Hecate did it in a whole style of her own.

Percy raised his head, clutching his nose with his free hand and pulling up a dizzy Annabeth with the other. She looked okay, as far as he could tell, maybe a bit paler than usual. Her eyes were as sharp as ever though, and they widened in surprise as she caught sight of something behind him. Percy turned to see what it was, and nearly laughed out loud.

They had landed on the shore of a large lake, and apparently Hecate needed to mind her aim a bit more, because some of their number had been unfortunate enough to land in the lake itself. Thalia and Leo were scrabbling out of the murky water, soaking wet and grumbling loudly. Leo looked a bit like one of those friendly alley-cats, with his wet hair sticking out all over his forehead and his slightly scrawny frame made more so by his dripping T-shirt. Thalia looked like a significantly _less _friendly alley-cat: she was dripping, all right, but her blue eyes hummed with power, and she looked ready to strangle any old granny who tied to pet her.

Thalia swore in Ancient Greek as she reached the shore and pulled herself up. She started to roughly wring her t-shirt of any major excesses of water, glaring at her companions as though daring them to comment. Leo just grinned. He snapped his fingers, and a second later dozens of sparks appeared and zoomed all over his limbs, chest and head. In less than five seconds, he was dry.

"What happened?" Thalia snapped. "Don't tell me we were _supposed _to land in that damn lake, or I'll zap you."

Percy grinned.

"Not in that state, you won't. Water conducts electricity. If you used one of your pet lightning bolts on us you'd get shocked yourself."

Scowling, Thalia made a gesture over her shoulder, twisting her hand in a slightly dance-like move as though she were in a Bollywood film. Immediately, a strong wind picked up around them, lifting leaves up in the air and whipping their hair around their heads. The wind got stronger, and Thalia led it into a loop around herself, creating her own mini-tornado. A few moments later, she was windswept, cold, and still slightly damp, but significantly drier and even more annoyed.

"Care to say that again, Jackson? I didn't hear you the first time."

Percy gulped, but Annabeth stepped in before anyone else retaliated.

"Guys, come one. We're officially on a quest now. We can't afford to be immature."

Leo groaned and dramatically put a hand to his throat.

"To me, that's like saying we can't afford to breathe!" he exclaimed.

Jason got to his feet. He and Piper stood side by side, looking a bit stunned but well enough.

"I agree with Annabeth. First things first: we have to find a way to infiltrate Hogwarts." He paused. "If we can find it. Actually, are we even supposed to know what it looks like?"

"I think it's a huge, grey castle, with turrets and towers and looking like it belongs in the middle ages." Nico said suddenly.

The others turned to him, surprised.

"How in Hades could you know that...?"

Nico pointed behind them. The eight demigods looked, and their jaws promptly dropped. Behind them loomed the biggest, most intimidating fortress any of them had seen, with, indeed, several huge towers, spindly turrets and countless gothic arches. The stones varied in shades of grey, and the roofing was black slate covered in a slight sheen from a previous rainfall. Together with the hundreds of gargoyles dotting the ledges and the sheer size of the building, it was as majestic as it looked alarming.

"That's a school?" Leo said weakly. "Wonder what their palaces look like."

Percy glanced at Annabeth, who was staring at the castle in a mixture of awe, disbelief and excitement. He knew for a fact she would be happy here for as long as it took for her to find out the exact architectural structure and design of every corner of that castle.

"When Hecate mentioned a castle, I don't know what I thought, but it certainly wasn't this." Annabeth murmured. "She found a way to use the aether to let us pass through all the magical boundaries around this place."

Percy shuffled awkwardly.

"Sorry," he said, "but, um... What exactly is the aether?"

"In Ancient Greek, it literally means 'pure air', and it was believed to be the substance that the gods breathed." Annabeth explained. "Later, in medieval Europe, it was said to be a layer of material that covered the sky, between the highest layers of it and the rest of the universe. Mortals still use the term, but in a godly context it's a substance a bit like the Mist: the gods breathe it and use it as part of their powers for things like creating special effects - or travelling, apparently."

Leo raised an eyebrow.

"Geez, how many more super-powerful omnipresent forces are we going to find out about today?"

"Well, that's the point." Annabeth said, looking thoughtful. "The aether is never mentioned to be very powerful, just occasionally useful. It _is _only the equivalent of breathable air for the gods, after all, even if it does have its other uses."

Percy goggled at her.

"Not very powerful? Annabeth, Hecate teleported us across the world in, like, seconds! If that's not power, I don't know what is."

"I suppose it makes some sense, though." Hazel joined in. "Hecate is the goddess of the aether now, so it only seems logical she would make it collaborate with her own creations."

Leo held a hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Lady, wait. There are several things wrong with that statement. First of all, magic is anything but logical: you and Hecate nicely demonstrated that for us in the House of Hades. Secondly, what do you mean Hecate is the goddess of the aether 'now' _-_ did she get promoted or something? And lastly, you said that collaboration bit like she has multiple responsibilities as a deity; I thought she was only the goddess of magic?"

Hazel looked a little miffed at being called out like that, and her tone was a bit more clipped when she answered Leo.

"When she supported the gods in their rebellion to overthrow the titans, the Olympians gave her a share in all three major parts of the universe: the sky, the earth and the underworld." she said. "Hecate was already the titan associated with magic, but then she was also given some power over the dead, the ability to control and use the aether as she wished, and various other emblems that are more earthly, like crossroads, doorways, choices and trivial knowledge. When she took over the aether, the original deity in charge of it, Aether, stepped back and let her take up his mantle - a bit like Apollo and Diana took over the sun and moon from Helios and Selene. Hecate's the only deity to have power in all elements of the universe."

"Which actually explains how she was able to create the wizarding world in the first place, I suppose." Annabeth mused. "I mean, you can't create a whole civilization just by being able to control clouds or haunting crossroads."

Piper delicately raised a hand, making a show of clearing her throat.

"Excuse me," she said sweetly. "But aren't we supposed to figure out a way to enter the school?"

Annabeth snapped out of her reverie and got back to business.

"Right. So, the obvious route to take would be to meet the headmaster and convince him to take us in."

"Hey, headmaster! Take us in, we're really good at fighting monsters, flying warships and picking strawberries!" Leo muttered. "Piece of cake."

"We have to make the headmaster pity us," Annabeth continued. "Our powers of persuasion are pretty much useless in this situation: even if Piper could persuade him to take us in, her spell wouldn't hold indefinitely, and I have a feeling swords and arrows won't be much good in convincing him to attend his school either."

"So what do we do, make up a story that we're orphans and we need a home?" Percy asked, himself unsure if he was being sarcastic or not.

"Something like that." Jason said thoughtfully. "For some of us that's pretty much true, anyway. We have to make the headmaster feel guilty enough to let us in of his own accord. Maybe make up something about how we have nowhere else to go."

"Yeah, that could work." Leo said enthusiastically, "we could say something awful happened at our last school and we had to fight our way out and come here at the risk of our lives. We can give lots of details, like what monsters we fought on the way, and what all sorts of creepy stuff we had to do to get past the Hogwarts barriers."

Annabeth frowned.

"That's hardly making it sound realistic, Leo. Too many words at the start just makes it obvious we're lying. Plus, we really shouldn't go on about how we breached the boundaries, since they're supposed to keep everything and everyone out. But the disaster idea is good," she said thoughtfully, "lies are always better and more believable when they have some truth to them. Gaea's attack on the camp was disastrous, all right. We can think of that if they ask for details."

Percy nodded in approval.

"And if we have to give any names, give the name of someone we're all likely to know. Like if they ask who our principal was, we say Mr. D."

Thalia looked uncomfortable.

"But we have to be careful not give many names anyway," she said. "We all know from experience how dangerous names can be. Annabeth's right: the simpler the better. If we say too much, we'll have trouble keeping track of what we say."

"Which is why, maybe, we should leave the talking to only some of us," Piper said, looking like she was choosing her words carefully. "No offence, you guys, but I think it's best if Annabeth handles the explanations, and I can do some persuading if there's any need. Jason is quite the diplomat as well now, so he can speak up if necessary."

There were nods all around as the demigods saw the sense in this. Nico muttered how that was more than fine with him, and Frank even looked relieved. Leo looked a bit put out, and Percy couldn't help but feel the same way, but he knew Piper was right: if they messed up, the consequences would be grave.

"I guess we should also cover up our shirts," Hazel said. "Bright purple and orange tops with strange camp names can be quite a bit of a giveaway."

Annabeth slapped her forehead.

"I can't believe I didn't see that earlier!" she groaned. "What if someone had seen us straightaway? Hazel, you're brilliant, thank you."

Hazel's dark cheeks flushed. Percy suspected she sometimes felt a bit inferior to Annabeth, who had saved countless lives with her brilliant plans and divine legacy of intellect. He honestly didn't see why: Hazel was great, and she had her own incredible talents. He had yet to find someone else who could summon riches, manipulate the Mist and tame wild horses like she could.

Once jackets had been zipped up, or shirts put on backwards and hidden by loose hair (or, in Leo's case, put on inside-out) they started trooping up the steep hill towards the castle. It was the end of summer, but even in Europe the weather was still quite agreeable, and the sun was warm enough for them to feel hot and flustered when they reached the top. The huge shadows by the castle itself provided nice cool shade, and they could set about looking for a way in.

"One question," Leo asked, panting as they circled yet another tower in the hope of finding a door of some sort, "if we do actually find an entrance, how do we find the headmaster? The castle looks huge, and it's the summer vacation. Who's actually gonna be there?"

"It's a boarding school," Annabeth replied, "and a very elaborate one, clearly. There are bound to be some teachers around when the students are gone, and I think it's pretty much expected of the headmaster anyway."

"How'd you figure that one out?" Jason asked.

"Well, a school as big as this would require constant maintenance." Annabeth reasoned. "There's probably a whole load of staff, and someone would have to supervise them in case anything needed reporting. So, a headmaster, or a deputy at least."

Piper grinned ruefully.

"I should definitely try to make friends with logic, too." she decided.

Thalia laughed.

"You're a child of Aphrodite." she pointed out. "The rules of common sense are reversed among your lot. Act first, think later."

Piper frowned, but not because she was annoyed at the huntress.

"Unfortunately, I think you're right," she mumbled. "There are times when our emotions prove to be more useful than overactive intellect, but-"

"Well, well, well," said an unfamiliar voice, not a nice one, behind them. "We _are _in trouble."

The nine demigods spun round in alarm and surprise. Percy found himself reaching for Riptide, but restrained himself just in time. They were supposed to be normal, for Zeus' sake! The man in front of them was, so far, the most unpleasant thing they'd seen of the wizarding world. He wasn't tall, but made even less so by his stooped posture and hunched shoulders. His beady eyes had a mean glint to them, only reinforced by the crooked smile he gave them, revealing broken, yellow and distinctly few teeth. His stringy, greasy hair hanging limply from his mostly bald head made Tyson's hair look clean, and his pox-marked skin was pale and most unhealthy-looking in the bright sunlight. He cackled in malicious glee.

"Students? No uniforms, no luggage, terribly early and attempting to break in? My, my, you _must_ be trying to set a new record."

Percy knew he ought to be concerned about the imminent threats this man was making, but only the word "uniform" registered in his mind, and his heart sank. He detested uniforms. Whatever they were though, he hoped there weren't any ties - they always made him feel like he was choking. Maybe as a son of Poseidon it was because he found death by lack of breathable air so ironic since he could, you know, breathe underwater, but the fact remained that he would rather wear one of those ghastly Roman togas every day rather than a uniform.

Annabeth cleared her throat hurriedly.

"Excuse me, sir," she said politely. "There must be a misunderstanding. Please could you show us the way in? We're new students, you see, so-"

The unpleasant man held up a hand gnarled with rheumatism and topped with yellowed fingernails.

"American, eh?" he sneered. "No excuse, no explanations. Rules are rules. If you break 'em, you're a criminal in all but name. Been telling the headmaster to treat 'em as such for decades, but he seems to think whips and chains and dungeons do more harm than good. Rubbish, I say."

He peered at them and narrowed his eyes.

"Though I must say I've never seen such an extent of students going out of bounds - before the term even _started_, even. I reckon we can negotiate something special for you little hooligans, eh? I've kept my whips and cat-o'-nines nicely-oiled for years, maybe they'll do."

Out of the corner of his eye, Percy saw Frank and Thalia tense, and Thalia slowly reached for her backpack, which he knew was actually her bow and quiver. Not wanting to create too much of a scene and jeopardize the whole thing so early on in their mission, Percy stepped forward and held up both hands, trying to sound sympathetic when he spoke.

"Hey, you know what, dude? You're right. It's totally unfair how rule-breakers don't get correctly punished anymore. I mean the only way we'll learn is by force, right? It'll give us something to remember it by."

The man looked amazed, and his small, beady eyes widened. He looked like he'd met the Messiah - which actually, from a non-Christian, polytheist kind of way, Percy sort of was, being the son of a god and all.

The man nodded vigorously.

"Well... Yes, yes. Oh, I've been saying that for years. You lot are in for a heck of a punishment. Nothing like a bit of pain to make you remember to stay in line, that's right."

"Exactly." Percy said, ignoring his friends exchanging looks, wondering if ole' PJ had finally cracked. "Back in our school, we do things way better: corporal punishments, isolation in cells, starvation - the whole lot. The best way is the Spartan way, they say."

The man looked at him blankly.

"The hard way. The painful way." Percy translated.

The man brightened - relatively speaking.

"But I'm assuming you need permission to use your whips on us, though." Percy carried on. "D'you think maybe you could take us to the headmaster and physically show him how awful we'd been and how we deserve a harsher punishment?"

The man nodded readily, all traces of suspicion gone.

"Yes, I suppose I'll have to. I _could_ just take you to my office and deal with you there and then, but Dumbledore might not be pleased if I didn't ask him first..." he mused. "I don't suppose we could just keep this between ourselves, could we?" he asked, looking hopeful.

Percy hesitated.

"Um... No, I really think-"

"Oh, please take us to mister Dumbledore, sir." Piper said, finally cottoning on. Percy sighed in relief; he could hear an edge of charmspeak in her voice and he found himself nodding along to what she said. "We wouldn't want _you_ to get in trouble as well. And it might be the opportunity to show the headmaster how fitting it is that we get what we deserve."

Her voice was warm and respectful, and the other demigods nodded, making approving sounds as though her suggestion was perfectly reasonable. The only one who looked doubtful was Leo.

"Erm... Guys, I'm feeling quite partial to lines and detention, myself. Or even being let off the hook, seeing as, you know, we didn't _do _anyth-_ow_!" he yelped as Frank stamped on his foot. "I mean... Whips? Dungeons? Pain?" he squeaked. "I love pain. Let's do this, candy-man."

The man ignored him. He was probably used to protestations and excuse, and visibly was not in the habit of making exceptions, even for students who claimed to love punishment.

"Right. This way, you little scumbags." the man said, shoving past Nico and Percy, shuffling along the sides of the castle. "We're off to see the headmaster, so you'd better prepare yourselves for a thrashing like you've never had before."

Percy exchanged a look with Annabeth and they raised their eyebrows simultaneously. It was amazing how Hazel, Thalia and Piper's trick of saying what your enemies wanted you to say was effective, even when no magic nor Mist was used. Percy made a mental note to start practicing that himself. They'd had proof it could work just about anywhere, even in a wizarding world hidden from the rest of humanity.

In silence, or very nearly, they followed the man, who sounded like he was the caretaker the way he kept grumbling to himself about imminent pranks, widespread plagues of sweet-wrappers and the amount of work he had to do to keep up with it all. They walked for about five minutes before at last reaching a large wooden door with great black iron bolts. The man, still grumbling, but now about how quickly doors like this needed oiling and did they know how many times he'd asked for them to be charmed adequately, and took a huge black key from his pocket, inserting it into a similarly-sized keyhole, and using both hands to turn it. There was a loud _clunk_, and the door creaked open. The demigods shuffled inside, suddenly wary and - strangely, for them - intimidated. It was cooler inside. The walls were made of stone, and a few torches flickered brightly, casting shadows on the whole corridor.

The caretaker led them along, ignoring their stunned expressions as they took in their - admittedly limited - second look at an aspect of the wizarding world. Percy felt like a bit of a fool. Not once since he'd noticed the castle down by the lake had he thought "hey, this is a medieval castle; it's bound to be medieval inside!"

Only Annabeth looked excited as she looked around.

"I can't wait to see the halls." she whispered eagerly to Percy. "European architecture is so fascinating - it was always so varied and alien to the Greeks. Of course, in a castle as old as this one, the styles must have amalgamated and-"

"Hurry up you little toerags!" the caretaker shouted irritably, already a dozen feet ahead of them despite his obvious difficulty of movement. "Haven't got all day. The other students are arriving tonight, and I for one have got other things to do than babysitting criminals."

"No-one's asking you to." Nico muttered, but like the others he followed the caretaker as he led them through a couple of corridors, a hall or two, and up several flights of stairs. By the time they had reached the third floor, the demigods were stunned, because it had suddenly dawned on them just how wrong they'd been: the castle wasn't huge, it was ridiculously _massive_. Most of them were already a bit breathless, which considering their training was saying something, and all of them were in shock: the halls were as big as houses; the doors _talked_; the stairs changed direction even as they were stepped on; the portraits and pictures _moved. _Percy stood, entranced, staring at a picture of a ship at sea that was floundering in a violent storm, portrayed with towering waves, howling winds, and flashing strips of lightning. Annabeth had to pull him away before they could lose sight of their guide.

"Oh, Kym, sister mine, you've been busy over the years." was all Percy could mumble as he stumbled after the others.

Annabeth had been the one to call him back to the present, but she was by no means totally with it either. Her head kept twisting and turning in every direction, gasping and pointing at anything that stood out as interesting design, beautiful balance or just plain impossible by any laws of nature. But Percy, like the rest of his friends, was very quickly learning that he would have to say goodbye to whatever principles of science and logic he had managed to keep hold of so far.

Leo was all abuzz, too. Much like Annabeth, he looked like he could've done with a few extra pairs of eyes, or maybe some like Orion's, with built-in binoculars and video recorder. Twice, Percy had to push him forward lest he cause a traffic jam in a particularly narrow corridor. He didn't blame his friend though. As a son of Hephaestus, he was bound to stare and prod until he figured out how it all worked.

The caretaker walked surprisingly quickly, the nine teenagers often having to jog to keep up. Finally, after another climb up a huge marble flight of stairs, they met their second wizarding person. This time, the effect was rather more impressive. She was a witch, tall, with black hair streaked with silver and pulled back in to a tight bun. Her hat was big and pointed, and her clothes looked like superimposed medieval gowns, complete with huge flapping sleeves and several layers of dark, heavy fabric. The only things that lacked to the picture were a few warts, a wand, and perhaps a cauldron or two.

The witch didn't spot them at first, walking towards them in a very business-like manner whilst reading a very long sheet of yellowish paper. She didn't slow or halt until she was within ten feet of the caretaker. When she looked up and caught sight of the panting caretaker and nine shifty teenagers, her bespectacled eyes widened in astonishment.

"Mr Filch! What is the meaning of this?" she cried, in an accent Percy only knew because he watched television. Vague memories of swearing, huge lakes and rain swam back as he tried to locate it. English, maybe? No... Irish? Aha! Scottish!

"Students, Professor McGonagall." the caretaker, Filch, said. "I found 'em trying to break into the school. They're American, and I ain't seen 'em before, but students found breaking rules must be punished accordingly. I was just on my way to bring them to Professor Dumbledore, ma'am."

The witch hardly seemed to hear him. She was staring at Percy and his friends, her eyes looking like they were about to pop. Was it Percy's imagination, or did he see a glimmer of realization flick across her gaze...? In any case, the witch professor recovered quickly, and a second later had straightened slightly, rolling up her long piece of paper. Her hands looked like they were shaking a little, and Percy wondered if it was down to advanced age, or if he'd been right and she was genuinely stunned - and possibly a little frightened - in finding them here.

"Thank you, Argus." she said.

_Argus?_ Percy thought. _Argus?_ Who in the name of Poseidon would call their child that?

"I'll take them myself." she went on. "I was on my way to his office anyway, so I might as well spare you the, ah... ordeal." She smiled thinly. It was clear that she was used to getting things her way.

Percy was suspicious, though. She'd been walking in the opposite direction from them, and that piece of paper had seemed more important than so-called rule-breakers a few seconds ago. Either something fishy was going on here, or he was getting way too paranoid for his own good.

Filch shuffled uncomfortably.

"Well... you see, Professor, I had a mind to ask the headmaster if I could use my equipment on them, for once. As it's a special case, and all, I wondered if..." he faltered as the witch straightened completely, and her nostrils flared while her eyes shot daggers at him. The overall effect was intimidating, and Percy had a flashback of Hera when she was angry.

"Really, Filch! This is the twenty-first century, not the middle ages!" ("Really?" muttered Leo. "Could've fooled me.") "Hand these students over to me at once and away with you! I understand you can get frustrated during term-time, when goodness knows how students can be infuriating, but term has not even started and there really is no excuse for your barbaric approach to discipline!"

Filch bowed his head, mumbled a few nonsensical things, then turned and shuffled away, glancing back almost apologetically to the nine demigods while they tried not to look too relieved.

The witch let out a short breath, then gathered her skirts and looked imperiously at the teenagers before her. There was a moment of silence as she considered them, and as they took in the sight of her, the most wizarding image they'd had so far.

"Well, I've really no idea how you lot got here, or what any of this means, but you'd better come with me." she said finally. Something in the way she said it made Percy suspect their arrival wasn't the first strange thing that had happened in the last few days.

They followed her in silence - which was strange in itself, since by now Percy would have expected at least one of his friends to say something - until they reached a dead end, with nothing there but the large statue of a gargoyle. The witch stopped, and Percy wondered is she'd taken a wrong turn. He didn't blame her: this castle was a freaking labyrinth! And he would know, having actually been and nearly died in the original.

"Chocolate frog." Professor McGonagall said crisply. Behind her, a few eyebrows were raised, but suddenly the stone gargoyle raised its skeletal wings, screeched and moved aside, giving way to a gently ascending spiral staircase. Annabeth's jaw dropped slightly, and Percy heard Leo mutter very quietly to himself.

"Pistons?... No, too noisy. Motor?... What kind of fuel? No electricity here..."

Professor McGonagall stepped primly onto the first step, and the demigods watched in stunned silence as she was slowly spun upwards. She made an impatient gesture for them to follow, and they hastened to obey. This was not a woman you could cross and get away with it.

"What was that about chocolate?" Piper whispered.

"A password." Leo breathed back.

"Probably a special code to link two of the most unlikely words imaginable together." Annabeth said. "I mean, who would ever link frogs with chocolate?"

Hazel and Piper snorted quietly, but Percy hoped it wasn't some sort of wizarding delicacy. He'd had enough weirdness for the day, thankyouverymuch.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Leo and the others tramped into the office, some damp and some giggly, but all emotions gave way to awe as they took in their surroundings. The headmaster's office was a Hephaestus's kid's heaven. There were strange instruments aesthetically placed around the room, not one them failing to emit a some sort of clicking or a gentle humming, and their shiny metal parts glittered and flashed in the light. It was warm, cozy, and seemed to emanate from the room itself.

Leo's hands itched to pick some of them up and find out what - literally - made them tick. His Hephaestus senses were going overdrive, sensing a huge force at work that made all these wonderful instruments function. A kind of power, ever-present, and somehow _everywhere._ Leo's mind was racing. How was this possible? Was this the magic Chiron had told them about? It didn't feel like the Mist; it felt more...alive.

Leo mentally shook himself. What was he talking about? Magic, alive? Maybe it was time for a SuperLeo Caffeine Shot - he was getting more tired than he thought. Hephaestus kids could work out how mechanical structures worked, what made machines function, how they could harness the structures and use them to suit their own needs. Magic was, well... Magic. Not mechanical, not machinery, and certainly not alive. He wouldn't be able to feel - er, _sense _it if it was alive. Leo wasn't good with living things, people, or anything that was conscious. Well, perhaps except for Festus.

Leo shot a glance at Annabeth, knowing her brain would be doing a double-take at much as his own was. He grinned. It wasn't everyday you got to see a daughter of Athena baffled, which she _was_. Her stormy grey eyes were wide, and her face strangely pale in the warm light. She reached for Percy's hand, who took it. He too was visibly taken aback by the sheer _wizardness _of the room. Percy's eyes were fixed on a huge wall covered in portrait paintings. Leo squinted. All the people in them looked asleep.

Wait...was that one _snoring_?

The other thing that nobody failed to note in the room was the tall, silver-bearded, most wizardy man Leo could ever have imagined, let alone seen before. Even Hecate didn't scream _Magic rocks!_ that much. The man was old - well over eighty, in Leo's opinion - but radiated a kind of warm, friendly energy. Somewhat unfortunately, though, it reminded Leo of a few gods/monsters/other mythology-thing that he and his friends had met/stumbled upon/killed during the Giants war. Some of them had looked alright, even friendly, but very soon a manic gleam had appeared in their eyes, as though they were not entirely sane. A slightly similar look about this old man told the nine demigods he was completely, utterly and entirely eccentric.

The man stood up, his sharp blue eyes alight with surprise and curiosity.

"Well this is a surprise, Professor McGonagall," he said, "whoever have you brought me, then?"

The severe-looking witch shot a glance at the assembled teenagers. If Leo hadn't had the immediate impression that this was a woman who did not loose her cool easily, he would have said she was nervous.

"Headmaster, forgive this interruption, I know you're exceedingly busy at this time of year," she shot a dirty look at the demigods. A few of them looked back at her like, _We can't help it, you dried-up old nymph_. "But these children-"

"Excuse me," Annabeth interrupted unexpectedly. She sounded miffed. "We're _not _children."

Percy raised his eyebrows at his girlfriend in surprise. Usually she left the rude interruptions to him. Leo agreed with the sentiment: Annabeth was far too sensible and diplomatic to forfeit their first meeting with the wizarding world. Ruined relations and Annabeth just didn't associate, which was why Leo stepped forward and loudly cleared his throat.

"Good afternoon," he said politely, but the witch's flaring nostrils told him he was acting far too bouncy and cheerful on a territory that was, for all they knew, potentially dangerous.

"My name is Leo Valdez. These are my good friends Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Hazel Levesque, Frank Zhang, Nico di Angelo, Jason Grace, Piper McLean and Thalia. We, er...seem to have landed on your lawn." He paused. "This _is_ Hogwarts, isn't it?"

He tried to quash the giggle that wanted to escape. _Hogwarts -_ honestly!

The old man peered at Leo over his strangely-shaped spectacles. From a distance they looked like transparent halves of lemon slices. The only ones like that Leo had ever seen had been in his mother's workshop. A customer left them there one day, and Leo had played with them mostly to reflect light on walls - until they broke.

Now that he was standing, the demigods could see the headmaster was indeed _very_ tall. Over six feet. His beard and actual hair were down to his waist and tucked into his belt, secured by - Leo narrowed his eyes to see better - a sparkly hairband?... The man's fuchsia robes clashed magnificently with his heavily-embroidered red waistcoat, and even more so with his bright orange trousers. Leo had to fight the urge to wince. Even Mr D. would have found that outfit a little bit loud.

The headmaster strode around his desk to approach the nine demigods, his keen eyes quickly flitting over each of their faces in turn. He did not speak for another few seconds, continuing his scrutiny. For the first time in his life, Leo felt like _he _was the machine being sensed, read, evaluated and understood, like he himself usually did on anything that could be defined as machinery. The man's gaze was _that_ creepy. Leo shivered. Here was another magic person not to cross. Great. His not-to-cross list of people was now reaching, what, the hundreds?

"Thank you, Minerva," the headmaster said finally. "That will be all. Please tell Sibyll that she need no longer be concerned."

The witch - whom Leo would never in his _life_ had guessed was called Minerva - looked like she might want to argue, but refrained from doing so and quietly left the office after nodding cordially to the headmaster.

Once the door had clicked short (brass doorknob, magical lock, only opened for people who were welcome, Leo noted subconsciously) the headmaster casually sat on the front edge of his desk and crossed his arms, his x-ray stare still piercing the objects/persons of his attention.

"You have given me your names," he said, "Alas, sadly that does not illuminate me much as to who you are. But it is quite clear that you do not know who I am, however, and since you find yourselves at a disadvantage in any case, please let me introduce myself. My name is Albus Dumbledore, I am the headmaster here at Hogwarts."

_Yeah, we kinda gathered that,_ Leo thought.

"Now," Dumbledore continued, "we all have the privilege of knowing each other's names. May I presume that we can now progress as to the reason you arrived - and also _how_?"

His tone was light and courteous, but there was a steely undertone to it that made Leo feel this man wasn't as flowery as he looked, and possibly quite dangerous. The demigods exchanged a few glances. This was the moment. A second later, Annabeth was the undiscussed elected spokesperson. She took a step forward and addressed the headmaster.

"First of all, professor, I'd like to apologize for my outburst a minute ago," she said smoothly. "It seemed unfair to be called children after what we...after what happened to us."

She closed her eyes briefly, and there was a slight tremor in her voice. Leo was impressed. Even _he _wasn't that good.

The headmaster straightened. He took - seemingly out of nowhere - a long, thin stick (a wand, Leo suddenly realized), waving it once in a long, sweeping motion, and suddenly nine comfortable chairs materialized and dropped gently to the floor.

"I sense a tale coming," Dumbledore said, returning to his throne-like chair. "We might as well be comfortable." He sat, and passed around a box full of lemon candy. Leo took one politely and handed the box to Percy, who frowned almost imperceptibly. Leo grinned, knowing his friend was disappointed the candy wasn't blue.

"Now. You were saying, my dear?" Dumbledore prompted Annabeth gently.

She sat, tense on her seat, with both hands gripping the sides. She hadn't accepted a piece of candy.

"We - my friends and I, I mean - go...or, um, used to go to a magical institute in America. It was a great place, we even went to summer camp there and learned all kinds of things, like how to fight monsters and care for magical beasts."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose imperceptibly, but Leo could see he believed her, and he had to recognize Annabeth's skill, slightly worrying as it was: the best lies were always in part truthful.

"But one day," Annabeth continued, apparently doing her best to keep her voice level "the monsters attacked. There are so many of them in America, you see. Far too many for our government to control, and over the past few years they'd been growing strong." Again, the truth, though Leo sniggered at the thought of Olympus being an actual government. "We were unprepared. They attacked at dawn and destroyed everything about the school they could see, including the magical creatures - the nice ones which we kept with us - the staff, and... and the students."

A tear leaked down Annabeth's cheek, and Leo felt the urge to give her a standing ovation.

"My friends and I... we were on an expedition during the attack, carrying out some tasks a teacher had asked us to do. We came back in the middle of the morning, and-" she took a shuddering breath "-and there was nothing left. The school was in ruins, the land ripped up, b-bodies everywhere." she gave a sob. "And then I... I saw Mr...Professor Brunner, our history teacher. He was still alive, but so badly hurt it was only a matter of time before he... Well, he told us what happened, and that the monsters would be coming back to make sure none were alive. He said we needed to get away, stay safe, and hide. He told us he knew about a school - the greatest school of magic in the world - somewhere in the United Kingdom. He was very near the end by that point. He - he didn't have enough strength to say anything else. He sent us here, though. We saw him die but we owe him our lives."

Dumbledore's gaze was trained solely on her, his hands as if in prayer under his chin. He had listened to the complete lies with attention, interest, and increasing sympathy as it drew to an end. Everyone adopted suitably tragic expressions.

"Ah, my dear," he sighed, opening his hands and closing them gently. "Such a tragedy, and so sudden, too. All of you so young, so unused to war and loss."

Leo's jaw clenched, and he knew Percy, Nico, Jason and Frank would have similar reactions. The girls were a little more self-controlled, but Annabeth had to say something again quickly before this doddering old man said something that was stupid, cliché, insulting - or, as he had just superbly demonstrated, all three at once.

"Yet I cannot say I have ever head of this school," the wizard continued, oblivious to the rising tempers of the smarting demigods. "What did you say it was called?

"I didn't. It's called - _was _called - Mythomagic Institute." Annabeth replied without missing a beat.

"Mythomagic, hmm..." Dumbledore mused, tracing the ridges of the wood on his wand with his long fingers. For some reason that made Leo nervous. "You didn't mention where it was, my dear."

Annabeth winced in a convincing imitation of regret.

"Sorry," she said. "But when you join the school you have to take an oath not to speak of its whereabouts, it secrets, or even the staff. Our headmaster, Mr. Dee, said it's because these years are a lot more dangerous, for some reason. Monsters are increasing in number and Mythomagic was... Well, I guess you could say a little paranoid. They didn't want _any _information leaving it whatsoever, which means that we physically cannot tell you anymore about the school."

Leo nearly whistled. Holy jitterbugging Hera. This girl _was _good. Beyond good, even.

Beside her, Percy was wearing his best grief-stricken expression, but his eyes visibly sparkled with amusement and pride. Fortunately, Dumbledore's attention was still focused only on Annabeth.

He leaned back into his chair.

"Well, thank you, Miss... Chase, is it? It is unfair that you should have had to relive all that while explaining it to me, so again, I am grateful. I consider myself something of a good judge of character, and I can see a recent grief and loss in all of your faces, which is why I will choose to believe you." They all smiled at him, some of them a bit more forcibly than others. Grief, yes. Loss, certainly. But not as recent as mister Greybeard here thought.

Dumbledore smiled back, but raised a finger. "There are, however, a few details I have not yet grasped. You see, Hogwarts is surrounded by age-old magic boundaries, as strong and powerful as the foundations of the earth." Leo doubted that, he'd met Gaea personally. "They protect the school, prevent anyone from going to and fro without my permission, and most importantly, keep unwanted visitors out." He chuckled. "No implied insults there, I assure you. However, it would therefore be very tempting to say that your arrival here was impossible, yet here you are." He spread his hands, as though he'd made a good point - which he had, for him. For the demigods... not so good.

This time it was Hazel who saved them.

"We used a portkey," she blurted. "I - I don't quite know how it worked, since your magic rules are supposed to stop even them from entering, but that's what we used... Look."

She reached inside her pocket and pulled out a torn, washed out, grubby... teddy bear? Leo almost laughed. Of course! One of Octavian's unfortunate victims. But what was it doing in Hazel's pocket, and most importantly, what in Tartarus was she talking about?

Leo exchange a glance with Annabeth. Her carefully neutral expression told him she had no clue either.

Dumbledore's silver eyebrows had shot up.

"A portkey?" He sounded astonished. "Are you sure?"

Hazel nodded and the others followed her lead.

"Fascinating..." the wizard murmured, stroking his beard. "Technically of course, even your answer is not sufficient explanation for this...this _extraordinary _feat, for in theory Hogwarts' magical boundaries are designed to keep absolutely anything unwelcome out. By the laws of magic you should not be here - or even alive. Anything who tries to force the boundaries and cross the limits should be dead."

Leah gulped. Suddenly he was very glad they hadn't used the _Argo II _to get here. A demigod ship with a fire-breathing dragon and blazing celestial bronze ballistae definitely, even in his mind, entered the category of crossing-the-limits type machinery.

Then Percy spoke up.

"Maybe it wasn't magic," he suggested. "Maybe the portkey worked on technology instead. Leo here," he pointed his chin at Leo, "is an expert on anything to do with that, or machinery. Maybe he could look into it."

Leo tried to look interested and vaguely hopeful, but he couldn't stop himself from shooting a filthy glare in Percy's direction.

"Um... Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I could have a look if you like."

Percy was about to say something else, but Annabeth gave him a pointed _sh__ut up now _look. He was just about wise enough to obey.

Dumbledore's eyebrows were now reaching alarm-point, rising abnormally high on his wise old brow.

"Indeed?" he asked, sounding incredulous "Mythomagic must have had much to teach us, then. Here in England we wizards have never succeeded in mixing technology with magic. The Muggles create wonderful things," he waved a hand around wistfully. "But they go haywire whenever they come in contact with magic. I remember once having bought an electric toothbrush; I put in the... What are they called? The batteries, yes that's it. But as soon as I switched it on, it started hopping around on the sink singing Celestina Warbeck's "_A__C__auldron __F__ull of __H__ot__,__S__trong __L__ove_" - which, marvellous tune as it is, was woefully inadequate for the task of brushing an old man's teeth."

Leo's mouth opened slightly in a mixture of disbelief, disgust and horror. Muggles? No technology? And Leo had been so looking forward to examining the headmaster's instruments, making the suits of armour into automatons and programming his future wand to transform into a light sabre!

Meanwhile, Annabeth was giving her boyfriend a murderous look. Apart from _you just _had _to say the wrong thing didn't you__?_ it clearly said _leave the talking to the smart ones__,__S__eaweed __B__rain_. The others to their credit successfully trained their features into polite masks of detached interest, but Leo had a nasty feeling Dumbledore's sharp eyes had seen Annabeth's glare.

"Still, no matter," he said loudly. "We have always maintained an amicable rivalry with our able allies the Americans. Perhaps this is an instance where Britain truly needs to up its level of investigation. Now, to business." he said briskly, leaning forward and peering at them over his weird glasses.

"You find yourselves without a school, across an ocean, with no immediate connections, in a nation that is, as I am sure you will have heard, increasingly dangerous since the dark wizard called Lord Voldemort has returned."

The nine demigods straightened and all their senses were immediately on full alert. At last, something they could relate to and talk about relatively confidently.

"Around fourteen years ago, Voldemort was destroyed trying to kill a boy he thought was a rival. His power backfired, and he has been no more than a mere shade since."

Leo glanced at Nico, their shade expert. The boy looked paler still than usual, but his dark eyes glittered under a brow furrowed in concentration.

"By any laws of nature he should have died, but alas, such was not the case, and he is now back, due to the unfortunately successful use of Dark magic. The evidence shows that the whole population is in danger, which - now that you have entered Europe - also includes you. Nine American wizards and witches who traveled to England by an unknown force, and who claim to have succeeded in mixing muggle technology with wizard magic. That, my young friends, is what concerns me most. More so even then the issue of Hogwarts boundaries."

He paused. His aura of eccentric friendliness had dulled somewhat, and now he just looked like a tired, worried old man - with a horrid fashion sense.

"No doubt you will have heard of the progress in muggle technology, especially these days. I need not remind you of its power to make you understand how utterly catastrophic it would be for the entire world if Voldemort somehow got wind of this and decided to recruit all of you - willingly or not - for his army."

The nine demigods looked at each other. Frank and Thalia especially seemed tense, and Leo remembered that Frank had lost his mother to a war, and Thalia must have seen more than enough conflict in her time as a huntress to last for centuries. As for Leo's other friends...

Yeah. They all knew warfare. Even him - he'd helped build it.

Dumbledore spoke up again

"Then it is my duty, but also my honour and sincere hope that you will agree, to offer you a place at Hogwarts for whatever time it may take until Voldemort is defeated - until you graduate if that is your wish. As young wizards in the making, your safety is one of our primary concerns, and Hogwarts is known to be one of the safest places in the world, if not _the _safest. Your education must continue regardless of political affairs." Leo rolled his eyes. That had to be the most teacherly thing he'd ever heard in his life. "Now. Would you be willing to attend Hogwarts for the time being?"

The demigods, Leo included, gave him identical grins. Perhaps not ideal for teenagers who claimed to be the sole survivors of a very recent massacre, but Leo had a feeling Dumbledore expected them to express some enthusiasm. And after all, the first step to the mission Chiron had given them had been completed.

Dumbledore beamed, and the eccentric old wizard was back again.

"Excellent! Well, that's settled, then. As it happens our students arrive tonight, so you will join the sorting ceremony with the first years to determine which house you are in."

"House?" Nico asked, speaking for the first time.

"In Hogwarts students are sorted into four houses. The houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Each has its own attributes and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While Hogwarts is your sanctuary, your house will be like your extended family." The demigods' mouths twitched. Oh, they knew about extended family, all right. "Your triumphs will bring you points and credit to your house, whilst any rule breaking or failure to do the work will lose you points, and quite probably some respect from your housemates."

The assembled demigods noted how quite similar it was to the cabin system at their respective camps, back home.

"How will we be sorted?" Annabeth asked.

Dumbledore pointed to a shelf near his desk. It only had a misshapen piece of fabric crumpled on top of it, but Dumbledore seemed to think it answered Annabeth's question.

"The Sorting Hat." he said, helpfully. After all, they hadn't known it was a hat.

Annabeth frowned.

"So, we put on the hat and it tells us which house we're in?" she clarified. She didn't sound convinced, but Dumbledore smiled in confirmation. "What criteria does it base its decisions on, then?" she asked, ever the curious daughter of Athena.

Dumbledore hesitated for a second.

"I... wouldn't want you to form an opinion as of yet Miss Chase." He said carefully. "Naturally, over the years some rivalry has arisen between some of the houses. It would be unfair on both yourselves and your future housemates to form yourselves an opinion of the houses without knowing - as the saying says - both sides of the story."

Leo quirked an eyebrow. Ten drachma that one or two of these houses were the equivalent of the Ares cabin back home: bullies, mean, and more brawn than brain.

"However," Dumbledore continued, "I recognize how unsettling it must be for you to be here, with no prior knowledge of our ways or, I dare say, culture. Very well. The houses are each known for their particular attributes. Gryffindors are brave and noble; Slytherins are ambitious and able to achieve said ambitions; Ravenclaws are intellectuals and some of the finest minds of the wizarding world; and lastly, but certainly not least, the Hufflepuffs are good and loyal - be friends with a Hufflepuff and you will have a friend for life."

There was a brief silence.

"Well, I'm obviously a Gryffindor." Leo said, hands in pockets and grinning. "Because I'm amazingly noble, heroic and handsome."

His friends laughed.

"Annabeth is definitely a Ravenclaw." Thalia said, smirking at her friend. "And Percy is a particularly dim-witted Hufflepuff."

Percy scowled.

"You're likely to be a Slytherin, the way you're placing everyone like they're pawns on a chessboard." he retorted.

Leo laughed.

"Besides, he's Gryffindor: they don't get any braver or more reckless than him." he said.

"I think that applies to Jason as well." Piper joined in, nudging her boyfriend, who tried to look modest.

"And Frank," Hazel said, gazing up at own boyfriend with such adoration that Leo was about to make a snide comment, but Dumbledore raised a hand for silence.

"And therein lies my point," he said quietly. "For centuries the four houses of Hogwarts have coexisted in the school, partners and neighbours in every sense except the one that matters most: they have never truly been united, as one, in a way that would annul all rivalries and ensure only the best qualities of the students be used in times of great need. The students of Hogwarts, even before they attended the school, grew up listening to house stereotypes and rumours. You, as Americans, have the advantage of being able to form opinions of your future houses free - or very nearly - of prejudice."

He eyed them all a little sternly. It was clear this wasn't a request, but an expectation. They all nodded. Dumbledore sat down with a flourish, pulling out a long sheet of yellowish paper and selecting a huge striped, feather from a special pencil-pot. It took Leo a second to process that the man actually intended to _write _with the feather. He nearly laughed, but just in time remembered that he was supposed to be solemn.

"Good. Now, to make things official, I'll take down your names, then send an order to Diagon Alley to get you some school supplies. They'll all be second-hand, I'm afraid, but the school fund will cover all expenses. You will also need uniforms," he told them, glancing at the purple and orange T-shirts. "Full length black robes, black hats and black cloaks. I assume you still have your wands?…"

Leo sent a panicky glance at Annabeth. Wands? Nobody had said anything about wands! But Annabeth, Hazel and Piper nodded confidently and patted their pockets.

"Good. Excellent. As for your families, I imagine they are still in America, though your tale makes it clear they do not yet know of the tragedy at Mythomagic, nor of your survival. As soon as we are done, we will provide you with means to contact them immediately. Furthermore, while you are at Hogwarts, since you are effectively here in sanctuary and I am headmaster, I will be your guardian. Any special queries, complaints or other matters of interest you can report to me. Any questions?"

It was strange, Leo thought, how this man seemed to cast off and adopt various attitudes in the same way that he would swap shirts - er, robes. So far, they had seen the wise but slightly weird old wizard, the history teacher, the psychiatrist, the lecturer and the businessman. Whatever he would be next, Leo hoped it wasn't a clown. He hated clowns, however much his friends called him one.

"Yes," Percy said. He took Annabeth's hand. "This housing system… Does this mean we'll get separated if we get sorted into different houses?"

"In essence, yes." Dumbledore answered simply, lacing his fingers together. "You will be attending the same classes as your year in each of your houses, sometimes joined by classes from other houses. Each house has a common room, and adjoined are the dormitories of that house."

Percy paled a little, and squeezed Annabeth's hand a little tighter.

"So...We'll be apart?" He couldn't seem to get his head around that bit.

Dumbledore chuckled, a sympathetic twinkle in his clear blue eyes.

"I am afraid that all genders, in every year and every house, are separated, Mr. Jackson."

Percy blushed. So did Frank, and Jason. Leo just grinned. Nico rolled his eyes, while the girls remained unfazed.

"However," Dumbledore continued after a pause, "I do think we may have to make something of an exception from the general rules. Dormitories, you see, accommodate five boys or girls each, one room per year , and there are seven years. Amazingly, the number of available beds that we have always exactly matches the number of students we are expected to accommodate. But since you are here not only completely unexpectedly, but from another continent altogether, you can understand we are not, ah... prepared. But no matter; I'm sure our Charms expert, Professor Flitwick, will be perfectly happy to adapt a corner of the castle to serve as your dormitories. Some of the house-elves will take care of the practicalities, and by the end of the welcoming feast everything should be ready and you will be able to move in."

Leo nodded along with the others, pretending he understood the last bit about charm and domestic Santa helpers.

"I will _insist__,_however," Dumbledore went on, "that any homework, indoor leisure activities and socialising take place in your respective common rooms. It is of the utmost importance that you should build ties or friendship with your future houses, as much for your sake as theirs: it is, sadly, quite rare for our students to have much contact with foreign wizards. You will be a benefit to them, as indeed they will be to you."

He fell silent and gave them a large, warm smile.

"I think that everything has been dealt with." He concluded happily. "Gentlemen, ladies, I welcome you to Hogwarts! I hope you will work to the best of your ability and will find happiness here."

There was a chorus of _T__hank you, sir_ and _W__e__'__re so grateful__. R__eally__._ Piper even used a tiny bit of her charmspeak, just to make sure their new headmaster got their message of innocent, genuine gratitude that couldn't possibly have anything to do with completing a secret mission across.

"Thank you, professor," Piper said smoothly, with so much warm respect lacing her words it was tempting to say she wasn't even using her powers. "It was a great risk coming here, trusting magic that we didn't understand. And you are so kind to take us in - we'll do our best to live up to your expectations, I promise."

Dumbledore smiled gently.

"I'm very glad to hear that, Miss McLean."

There was a second of silence, then a strange rumble sounded across the room. Leo looked out of the window to check if Zeus had gotten offended or something, but the sky was clear.

Percy winced.

"Sorry," he said, "but did you mention a welcoming feast?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone. **

**Sorry. **

**I know I haven't updated for ages. I haven't for any of my fanfics for a while either though, in case that can make you feel any better.**

**Anyway, thank you EVER so much to Thalia-Saran, WhiteWinterStar, Fleury's Apprentice70, HungarianBaron, .562, yami2703, Lukas Le Stelle, Benevolent Dreamer, Some Guy, Guest and CinderAshTree, and to all you wonderful people who favourited and/or followed this story.**

** .562:**** Thank you so much for your input, that is a very valuable idea. I'll admit I'd never thought of anything of the sort, but the whole boggart thing is intriguing. Thank you!**

**Yami2703:**** That warms my heart, thank you :)**

**Benevolent Dreamer****: So. Nice. Of. You!**

**Some Guy****: Yep.**

***IMPORTANT NOTE*: Any outstanding issues that don't make sense within this story, please point them out to me, I'd be glad to rectify them in any way I can. I am already aware of some, and have a plan for most of them. But please feel free to nit-pick and criticize: flames keep my feet toasty at night :)**

**Okay, here goes!**

* * *

><p>The demigods were shown out of Dumbledore's office after receiving a very long and complicated list of instructions to Professor McGonagall's office. <em>Third right, second left, through the door that looks like it's part of the wall, ask permission to go past the painting on your left, duck behind the tapestry picturing Engo the Embezzled and carry on until you reach the corridor, then it's the fifth door to your left.<em>

They carefully went down the spiral staircase (it made you dizzy if you looked at your feet too long, Percy found) and paused just outside next to the gargoyle, which had now returned to its place and was as immobile as it should be. The nine teenagers looked at each other, so overcome by recent events they barely knew what to think, let alone do or say.

"Wow." Leo said after a few moments. "Magic, huh?"

"Yeah." Annabeth said, shakily running a hand through her long curls. "That just about covers it."

"You were amazing up there." Percy told her. "I can't believe he actually-"

Annabeth slapped a hand on his mouth. She put a finger to her lips and her eyes flicked to the huge gargoyle and back. Percy remembered how it had reacted to McGonagall's voice and kept quiet.

"We should go to Professor McGonagall's office," Piper said loudly. "Professor Dumbledore said we had to set some details straight with her."

They hurriedly walked about halfway through the corridor until they reached a spot of wall vacant of portraits - who, they had discovered earlier, could communicate as well as move.

"We have to be really, really careful about what we say in public." Annabeth warned in a low voice. "The walls here literally have ears, and we never know who they might report to."

"I'll bet you anything that gargoyle repeats anything it hears to the headmaster." Thalia said grimly. Annabeth nodded, and Percy winced at how he'd very nearly blown their cover.

"I just wanted to say that you were incredible, when you told him that story," Percy mumbled, a bit sheepish. "You didn't even have to practice and you got it spot-on right. But I still can't believe he actually _fell _for it." he whispered. "He's the headmaster of the supposedly best school of magic in the world, surely he'd be a bit more probing with anyone who comes begging for a place out of the blue?"

"Well Annabeth _was _really believable, to be fair." Piper joined in. "And there shouldn't really be any reason for him to be so distrustful."

"Oh yeah, sure, nothing. Except that there's the most powerful dark wizard on the loose again. But no, he wouldn't try anything, would he?" Thalia said, rolling her eyes.

"But this is a school," Piper reasoned. "Why would he want to get inside here?"

"Because Harry Potter goes to school here." Annabeth reminded her quietly. "And if Dumbledore knows about the prophecy Chiron told us about, then there's a big chance he's fully aware of a potential attack on the school."

Piper's face fell.

"Oh yeah." she said. "I forgot about that."

"And I don't think Dumbledore really believed us anyway." Annabeth said, the corner of her mouth twitching in regret.

"What? But he totally did!" Leo exclaimed, his dark eyes widening. "We got in, didn't we? We got a place."

Annabeth fixed him with her _I'm-a-daughter-of-Athena-and-you're-clearly-not_ stare.

"Leo, have you ever heard the phrase _Keep you friends close and your enemies closer_?"

Identical expressions of concern spread across Thalia and Jason's faces.

"You think he suspects us?" Jason asked, the worry clear in his voice.

"Not exactly. I think he can't have become headmaster of this school without a great deal of skill and a brain of gold. I think that his cheery old teacher act is just that: an act. I think that he's seen enough in life to see danger everywhere. I think that he's first and foremost a teacher who wouldn't compromise the safety of students - meaning us - by spurning them when they could be telling the truth. I think he knows that in these early days of Lord Voldemort's return he has to keep his options open, and in our case that would mean giving us the benefit of the doubt, or at the very least letting us stay here to keep an eye on us."

Hazel delicately massaged her brow.

"So, in essence, we're already in danger of suspicion?" she surmised.

Annabeth shrugged.

"Not any more than we were an hour ago. Remember, there's nothing he can do to prove we're impostors: Chiron can supply us with evidence that we once went to an academy named Mythomagic, and legally Dumbledore can't eavesdrop on any conversations we have with our families - which he can't do anyway, because we'll be soliciting Iris' kind services."

"Her expensive services." Leo muttered. Hazel elbowed him in the ribs. "Ow!"

"Shush." she scolded him. "She's actually very nice. A bit health-and-fitness crazy, but nice. And helpful."

"Guys, we should carry on walking a bit." Frank said nervously, glancing around. "Anyone could come by."

So they walked on some more, alternately gawping at the moving portraits, arguing with stubborn doors and arguing with each other.

"No, it's _that _way." Thalia said, gesturing at a large tapestry on their right with her arm. "Dumbledore said to go behind a tapestry of...of Embezzlo, or something."

"Yeah, but only after we asked permission to go past a portrait." Percy replied, eyeing the wall covered with portraits of ancient witches and wizards. Some of them looked positively medieval, whereas others had posed in front of industrial factories, clearly having thought them to be exotic sites. "So... Which one, again?"

"Guys, it's this way." Hazel called out, nodding at the portrait of a matronly witch sitting primly in an old wicker chair. "The nice lady says we can go past."

Unaware of the proper wizarding way of thanking someone, Percy awkwardly waved at the witch in the portrait and followed Piper under the thick tapestry.

"Did we just ask a portrait permission to go under a wall carpet?" Percy muttered to Annabeth in an undertone.

She smirked.

"Get used to it, Seaweed Brain. I have a feeling we're gonna see a lot more of weird stuff around here."

Once they reached the end of the hidden passage behind the tapestry, no-one cold remember which way they were supposed to go.

"This way." Piper guessed, seeing lots of doors to her right and recalling something about the 'fifth door'.

"No, it's to the left." Hazel said, already walking the other way, were there were, in fact, even more doors than on the left.

"How do you know that?" Leo grumbled. "This place is impossibly complicated, and I've worked in Bunker nine for months."

"I'm usually good at finding my way," Hazel replied absently. "I suppose it comes with the rest of my...er, skills."

She glanced nervously at the walls, but luckily any portraits were few and far apart.

"Well, in that case, I'm sticking with you, girl." Leo said, catching up and nearly gluing himself to her, ignoring Frank's scowl. "I hate getting lost."

"So do I." Percy agreed. "Ever since that Labyrinth-"

He stopped himself in time, starting to get annoyed, both at himself and at the castle. He had a nasty feeling the year was going to be long and frustrating if they couldn't say what they liked when they liked.

They found McGonagall's door within seconds, and Jason was about to knock when Nico suddenly called out. He was hanging back a little, and in the shadow of a suit of armour he looked like his old self: dark, gaunt and depressed. He beckoned to them silently.

"Before we go in there." he said. "There's something you should know."

"What? The door's gonna eat our fingers if we knock on it?" Thalia asked.

"No. Dumbledore can read minds."

Silence.

Percy wasn't sure he'd heard that right.

"Excuse me?"

"Dumbledore can read minds." Nico repeated. "He looked at me straight in the eye and... I felt him trying to read my thoughts while Annabeth was telling our, erm...back-story."

"Uh..._felt _him?" Piper asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, like there was suddenly someone else inside my head. He didn't say anything, but I could sense him there." He looked annoyed at their doubtful expressions. "Look," he said. "I know my own mind. Before the whole Gaea business, it was pretty much my one companion, so I know when someone's messing with it. Dumbledore can read our thoughts, I'm telling you."

"Actually," Hazel said, softly. "I do believe you, Nico. Lou Ellen told me the children of Hecate sometimes use something similar. It's not easy, and only the most powerful of her children can actually do it, but it does exist."

Leo groaned.

"Oh, great. Caretaker nearly puts us in corporal detention. Intimidating witch looks like she wants to set us lines. Headmaster suspects us. Headmaster can read minds. Just brilliant. And we've been here what, an hour?"

Nico stayed gave as Percy and Thalia smirked in spite of the truth in Leo's words.

"Just don't look him in the eye." he said seriously, and Hazel nodded in agreement.

"Eye contact is essential when trying to read someone's thoughts." she said. "If you don't meet his eye, your thoughts should be reasonably safe so long as you don't speak them aloud."

"Answers your question, though." Percy said to Annabeth. "We know he tried to verify our story." He turned to Nico. "What were you thinking about when he tried to read your mind?"

The son of Hades smirked.

"Nothing much. Only how horrible his outfit was. As soon as I felt him there, I - er...may have been slightly discourteous as I told him to leave. But I didn't think of anything demigod-ish, don't worry."

Annabeth looked worried.

"I never imagined anything like this." she said, frowning in concern. "Just to be on the safe side, if he ever questions us about our school again, just think as hard as you can of what Camp looked like after Gaea was defeated. We can't afford getting discovered that stupidly."

"Okay." Thalia said. "But we really should go in now. Likely any professors will come around the corner and ask us what we're doing. It's not like we want any other problems coming our way."

Piper snorted, and Percy shared the sentiment: demigod life wasn't about avoiding problems coming your way, demigod life was problems coming your way all the damn time.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Prof. Minerva McGonagall was supervising the last of the letter-sending when the nine American students knocked on her office door. Parchments were flying everywhere, flitting and floating in apparent chaos, but each of them knowing exactly which corner of the table to go to, which envelope to seal itself in, and which colour ink to write on itself with (green for the halfbloods, blue for the purebloods, black for the muggle-born). Hot purple wax diligently spilled itself from a charmed-hot metal bowl, followed by her needlessly-huge Hogwarts official seal pressing itself in to the soft wax. The process was long, complex, desperately in need of attention and exactly what Minerva needed - anything to distract her mind from the tortuously numerous questions erupting the more she thought about the new students. It was all to much of a bloody coincidence, excuse her French, for nine of them - _nine _of them - to literally pop up on their doorstep just _days _after Sibyll's rapture-state and doom prophecy about the fate of magic swinging in the void.

She had a mind to talk to Dumbledore about them. She had a mind to talk to Dumbledore about Sibyll. She had a mind to rant to him about that pink toad, too. She had a mind to talk to Dumbledore of just about anything so long as he did not keep her in the dark in this preposterous and thoroughly bemusing situation.

Since Sibyll's prophecy (because whatever her colleagues said, Minerva was damn well sure it was one) nothing much had happened. Well, nothing important. The toad-extraordinaire had arrived, with twelve suitcases all charmed different shades of pink. Of course, Dumbledore had welcomed her with open arms, a wide smile and a some warm words. Sometimes Minerva really could not decide if the man was an excellent actor verging on a complete hypocrite, or a man who truly believed in seeing only the best in everyone.

In any case, they were inordinately lucky that Umbridge had not yet seen the nine new arrivals. If she had... Minerva shuddered at the implications. Ministry inquiries, paperwork nightmares, auror-led investigations as to the safety of Hogwarts' borders. She could already see the newspaper article in the Daily Prophet, signed Rita bloody Skeeter. '_Hogwarts Break-In!_' and '_Is Hogwarts _truly_ safe?_'

She sighed. Why did crises (Dumbledore always called them surprises, but she stood her ground on that) always happen at this time of year? First the matter of eleven year old Harry Potter's Hogwarts letters never managing to reach their recipient, then that elf's meddling with the Charring Cross portal, followed by Potter's very near shave with the Ministry after quite literally blowing his aunt up. And it hadn't stopped there, she recalled, both with fondness and grim exasperation. The Quidditch Cup fiasco, Moody's abduction the day after that (although of course they hadn't known about that then)...and a few days ago, Potter saving his cousin's life - er, soul!

But he'd been cleared, so that was at least some good news. Those American students, on the other hand...

Who were they? Why were they here? _How _had they got here, come to that?

And, as Minerva's occasionally too-retentive mind kept tossing back at her, like a ball on those pang-pang tables those Muggles liked to play (or was it pong-pong? No. Ping-pang? Ping-pong! That was it.) - why _nine _of them?

_Nine shall react, and nine will return..._

Sometimes, Minerva hated prophecies. To be fair she'd only heard one or two in her life, but it was the principle of the things she found hard to get to grips with. Why give the inquisitive, arrogant and sometimes woefully-stupid human race a glimpse of the future if it could never be a) changed, b) prevented, or c) ever, _ever_ interpreted correctly?

It was like making a student prepare for an exam, then ambiguously predict his future performance, and then leaving them to agonize over it for days while you pushed them even harder in their studies. The student would be likely to interpret the 'prophecy' as his imminent failure and give up all effort because what would be the point, if he failed/passed regardless of what they did?

Minerva's brain was still mulling full-speed over the problem at hand. _Nine shall react_... _Across the sea... _Americans - they lived across an ocean, didn't they? There had been a whole bunch of figurative epithets in the prophecy, but Minerva recalled something about a stag. Young Potter's patronus was a stag, and she'd always known, deep down, under her belief (or perhaps hope?) that the Dark Lord had gone, that Harry would have a role in a second war against him, should there ever be one.

Could it possibly mean that the time was at hand, that Harry was going to find a way to defeat Voldemort? Could the arrival of these American teenagers be what the prophecy had warned? Were they meant to help Harry, give him some sort of secret weapon that the English wizarding world did not possess or even dream of?

Were they meant to _protect _the boy?

Minerva shook her head. No, she was being silly. Most of the adolescents she'd seen earlier had been two years older than Potter at the most. They were barely out of childhood themselves, and Minerva refused to believe that nine more troublemakers would be more efficient at protecting the Boy-Who-Lived that two, namely Weasley and Granger.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Minerva called for whoever it was to come in, expecting to see Filch come to whine at her for robbing him of his castigator's rights and privileges. Instead, a head covered in long, curly blonde hair peeked round the door. Minerva blinked.

"Excuse us, Professor." the girl said, in her foreign, slightly drawling but not unpleasant accent, "Professor Dumbledore told us to come here to sort some details out with you."

Minerva blinked again. Me? She thought.

"Me?" she said.

The girl nodded.

"Yes. We're new pupils, and Professor Dumbledore told us to come to you to straighten matters concerning student data. He didn't mention anything specific, but..." she trailed off, at a loss of what else to say. Minerva could see she had no idea of what else was to come.

The girl dithered on the threshold, clearly waiting for permission to come inside.

"Fine." Minerva said curtly, waving her in and watching as her fellow 'new students' filed in behind her. Any talking among them stopped as they entered, and they stared, wide-eyed, at the dozens of flying parchments rocketing around her office, accelerating now that the process was nearing completion. Regretfully, for it meant that the complicated task would have to wait even more (she was already late, according to Prof. Pink's rose-scented note sent and received three days ago. Funnily enough, Minerva had since found the smell of roses quite repelling) Minerva waved her wand, and all parchments froze in mid-air until she instructed them to gently float back to their respective piles.

"Well," she started to say, before pausing and waving her wand again, conjuring nine straight-backed chairs. "We might as well sit down, this is likely to take a while. Now, tell me, have you been Sorted?"

They shook their heads. The one in the middle, with pointed features, curly black hair and an air about him that screamed _Fred and George! _at her was staring at her sleeve, where she'd slipped her wand. Minerva ignored him.

"Professor Dumbledore said we would get Sorted along with the first-years." the blonde girl explained.

Minerva frowned. With the first-years? But these students were much older, some were close to being wizarding adults! She wasn't much of a pedagogue, but being Sorted along with terrified eleven-year-olds sounded like somewhat of a humiliating experience, even to her. She added it to the ever-increasing list of thing she wanted to discuss with Albus.

"We'll see about that when we get to it, then." she decided. "However, to get a head-start on your schedules, it will be helpful to know your names, followed by your ages. Start from the right."

"Percy Jackson, sixteen."

"Annabeth Chase, sixteen."

"Frank Zhang, fifteen." Minerva nearly voiced a comment, but mastered her surprise. Merlin's spectacles, the boy looked seventeen!

"Hazel Levesque, fourteen."

"Leo Valdez, sixteen." said the Weasley Twin look-alike. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at something on her desk. "Does it do anything?"

Minerva considered the question, and then the object itself. It was a fine paperweight: the silver effigy of the Scottish emblem, thistles and all, coated with velvet on the bottom and charmed not to tarnish. Heavy, solid and reliable. A shared gift from Albus, Pomona and Filius six years beforehand.

"I rather think that as a paperweight, it weighs down paper, Mr. Valdez." she answered crisply.

"Oh." he sounded disappointed.

"Next." Minerva said, punctuating her statement with a decisive jot on her notes.

"Piper McLean, sixteen." the bronze-skinned girl said. Her eyes were a little unnerving. Minerva had caught sight of them earlier, and could not decide what colour they were. She put it down to Fiddleton's Fancy-Eyes Film (_Glam up your eyes like a Muggle!_ read Witch Weekly. Not that Minerva ever read such rubbish, let alone remembered it).

"Jason Grace, sixteen."

"Thalia Grace, fi- sixteen."

"Twins, then?" Minerva asked, still scribbling on her notes. There was a very slight pause. She looked up. The blond boy, Jason, was grinning at the annoyed girl who was clearly his sister. Apart from the obvious clue of their surnames, they had the same eyes and something similar about the jawlines and the straightness of their features. On the boy, it looked right in a regal, sort of militaristic way. It gave the girl, however, a slight rough edge, one that was not unknown among some of the less, ah...delicate female Slytherin students.

"Yes." the girl said, finally. "Twins." she clearly resented the fact.

"And you?" Minerva asked the last boy, who was so pale and silent that he'd almost become part of the décor.

"Nico di Angelo, fifteen." he announced quietly. Minerva quickly looked back to her notes and noted that down too; his dark eyes were a little too intense for her comfort - they reminded her slightly of Severus Snape's.

Once the dates of birth were sorted out, it added up to this: Jackson, Chase, Valdez, McLean, Grace and Grace in sixth year; Levesque, Zhang and di Angelo in fifth year. The nine teenagers seemed pleased at the result, and the pale yet oddly dark di Angelo boy even shot a look of what appeared to be relief at Miss Levesque. She smiled back at him warmly, her golden eyes lighting up like a candle. Minerva found herself wondering why nearly all of these new pupils had such striking eyes: never in all her years of teaching had she seen such an optic cocktail.

"One last personal detail. What Blood Status are you?"

"Er...Blood Status?" Annabeth Chase asked uncertainly.

Minerva could feel the beginning of a headache coming.

"Yes." she said, rubbing her forehead and trying not to sigh. "Pure-blood? Muggle-born? Half-blood?"

"Half-blood." they chorused immediately.

"All of you?" she was surprised. Well, well. America certainly had a lot to teach to most of England's stuck-up pure-blood families. Old blood and money were all very well and good (well not really, but that wasn't her point) but there was nothing wrong with some new, fresh muggle blood from time to time. It was thanks to the Muggles that wizards hadn't died out, for Nimueh's sake. She jotted the information down and mentally scanned through what needed to be discussed before she could dismiss them.

"Has Professor Dumbledore suggested any arrangements for your dormitories?" she asked them , briskly shuffling some papers around on her desk. She hoped he had. Minerva herself really wasn't feeling up to the task of working out a way in which nine students could be accommodated without enlarging the millennia-old house dormitories.

"Yes." the Chase girl answered immediately. She rather reminded Minerva of Miss Granger, the way she always seemed to have an answer for everything. "He said that another part of the castle would be - er, modified to suit our needs."

Minerva nodded. Sensible, and typically pragmatic of Dumbledore. No doubt Filius would be taking charge of the procedures; maybe she would offer her own help in Transfiguring parts of the castle that remained stubbornly impermeable to change.

"Right, well there isn't much more now that can be decided, not while you still haven't been Sorted. Classes are arranged so that different houses of the same year can take them together and alternate class partners with each subject. So you might find yourselves with Hufflepuffs in Astronomy, or with Slytherins in Potions, for example. Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts are usually with your own housemates only, though that may change now that your arrivals have upped the number of students."

"Sorry." mumbled the boy with black hair next to Miss Chase. Earlier when she'd found them with Filch in the corridor, it wasn't until Minerva looked at him properly that she realized he wasn't Harry Potter. Now that she was closer and talking to him, Minerva didn't really know why she'd mistaken them in the first place. The two boys shared the same sort of dishevelled black hair and they both had green eyes, but the similarities ended there. This boy - Jackson, if she remembered correctly - was taller, his skin was more tanned, and he carried himself a lot more confidently - much like James Potter had, actually. Harry Potter seemed timid in comparison, though Minerva knew from experience that he was capable of much more than he looked.

She waved his apology away.

"Not much either of us can do about it now, Mr. Jackson. I will, however, brief you on the rules here at Hogwarts. No doubt in America your schools will have had similar regulations, but we cannot afford, especially in theses troubled times, any slip-ups, especially if they lead to bigger problems."

And didn't she know that, she thought.

"Firstly, no magic outside of classes or common rooms. You may need to practice charms and incantations for homework, but any flying hex or 'accidental' jinx gone wrong will get you straight to your Head of House and lose you points. I need not also point out that any magic outside of the appropriate areas endangers your fellow students as well."

They nodded rather deferentially. Minerva had slipped into her teacher-mode without even realizing it - she was wont of doing so every now and again.

"Secondly, I expect every single one of you to respect students from other houses as though they were in your own. Over the years, there has always been a certain amount of rivalry between the houses, but sometimes they cross limits completely and end in pointless, harmful incidents that bear shame on our school. Such silly rivalries, competitions and gratuitous maliciousness have never been anything other than futile and detrimental to the unity of our school. The nine of you will no doubt be separated among the four houses, and I expect you to maintain any and all of the friendship ties that exist already among you."

She eyed them severely. They looked mostly bemused, but Miss Chase seemed thoughtful, and the Grace girl looked ready to roll her eyes. Minerva considered it a credit to her own presence that she did not.

"Also, as you no doubt will know by now, Hogwarts is universally recognized to be the best school of magic there is. Professor Dumbledore did you a great honour to grant you a place here, and I expect you all to work to the best of your ability and prove you are worthy of said honour. We do not usually accept foreign students among our regular pupils, unless they have lived in the United Kingdom for five years prior to their entry at Hogwarts. You will therefore occupy a somewhat privileged position, and no doubt other wizarding folk overseas will try to obtain similar placements their own children, should any talk of your situation reach them. I thus expect you to stay modest on the circumstances that brought you here, heedless of what they may be. Any boasting, abusing of your position as foreign students or pointless gossip about this will, believe me, be severely dealt with. "

She paused, wishing that she herself knew the precise workings of how and why they were here. It was all very well to order them not to talk too much about the circumstances of their presence, but in that matter they were spectacularly more informed than she was, which placed her at a distinct disadvantage. Another thing to add to her Talk-to-Albus list.

Percy Jackson and Jason Grace both had slight frowns creasing their foreheads. Jackson looked annoyed, a look Minerva was familiar with: it was the look many students sported when they were being lectured or reproached on something that had, supposedly, nothing to do with them. Jason Grace, in many ways, seemed like the polar opposite of Mr. Jackson, in looks as well as attitude so far. If anything, Minerva would have sworn he looked slightly affronted at her suggestion that he would voluntarily cause trouble. She knew better than to trust appearances, however. Distrust and good observation skills were practically job 'musts' for a Hogwarts Professor.

"Which school do you come from?" she asked before she even knew she was going to.

"Mythomagic Institute ." Percy Jackson said promptly. "We can't tell you where it is, obviously - all schools protect their location."

Minerva was surprised, and that didn't happen often.

"Yes, indeed, but... Mythomagic? I can't say I've ever heard of it. Who is your headmaster?"

"Our principal is - _was _- Mr. D." the Chase girl answered. Her voice was tight, all of a sudden, and Minerva sensed their was much more to all this than first met the eye. Still, she was impressed.

"Dee, you say? You don't mean a relation of _John _Dee, the famous alchemyst from the Elizabethan era?"

They looked at her blankly. Minerva saw an opportunity to do a tiny bit of extra teaching.

"The Muggles thought of him more as an astrologer and a so-called psychic, you know, but he was a wizard. The man was a genius. He managed to get close to Elizabeth I in the best years of her reign and remained in her favour until his death, all the while concealing his magic self from the eyes of the muggle world. Very powerful, too. Some claim he was descended from Merlin himself."

"I don't know..." Miss Chase replied, glancing at her friends. "Maybe... Mr D. was quite powerful too, he could do all sort of stuff, but he never mentioned any special ancestors."

"We weren't very close to him anyway." Jackson said. "He was our principal, we were his students, and woe betide anyone who crossed him. That's all there really is to know."

Minerva eyed him speculatively. He was being remarkably blasé and closed off about all this, which seemed odd considering Miss Chase was so eager to answer her questions as well as possible. She had a feeling she and Miss Granger would get along if they got to know each other.

"Were you all at the same school, then?" she asked, this time looking at the other side of the row, who were distinctly quieter.

Some nodded, some shrugged and some hesitated. Minerva nearly threw her hands up in the air. Why was it teenagers were never capable of giving a straight, informative answer? It wasn't as though the questions were _hard_. She removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Merlin knew she had better things to do than extricating information from foreign students who were inexplicably reluctant to give it to her.

"What do you mean, nod, shrug, don't know?" she asked, her eyes closed and her nostrils flaring. Her students at Hogwarts all knew that was always a sign of danger, but these students didn't. Perhaps she should demonstrate and thus warn them for the entirety of their stay, and quite possibly their entire lives.

"Well, Thalia, Jason, Leo and me-"

"Leo and _I_." Minerva corrected tiredly.

"Right." Piper McLean blushed a little and carried on quickly. "The four of us did go to the same school, but Thalia... Er, her story's complicated, 'cause she sort of left, and Nico only just joined-"

"And we're new, too." Frank Zhang said, gesturing at Miss Levesque and himself. "We used to go to the same school as Jason, but we recently moved to Camp - I mean, to Mythomagic." he blushed, too. Minerva could have sworn Chase shot him a look that was less than benevolent.

"Is it common for students to move between systems in America, then?" she asked, genuinely curious. If students did that in the UK, their only other option would be to go to another country, whereas the United States clearly had more than one school. It was very rare, because switching schools often involved the learning of a whole foreign language from scratch, and could be extremely harmful to their academic careers.

All nine of the students shrugged, and Minerva gave up.

"Fine, fine. You lot truly are the most uncommunicative group of pupils I have ever had the exhaustion to meet."

The Hispanic-looking boy, Valdez, grinned.

"Thank you, Professor."

"Mr. Valdez, while like any other human being I enjoy a bit of humour every now and again, I must warn you now, I am thoroughly immune to sarcasm," she informed him in a tone devoid of any emotion, courtesy of having said more or less the same thing a hundred times during her career. "And any fun, playing around, horseplay or smart-aleck remarks, never, I repeat, _never_ occur during my lessons. That is not a warning, it is a fact."

Valdez shrank back a little (the nostrils were doing their job, Minerva noted with satisfaction) and nodded meekly, despite mumbling that he wasn't being sarcastic. Percy Jackson and Frank Zhang were casting her admiring looks, apparently in awe at her ability to make the troublemaker of their gang shut up.

"Now. I suggest you leave presently, and explore the castle while it's still empty. The feast is still in a few hours, in fact-" she looked at the grandfather's clock on her wall, "-it's in four hours' time. That leaves you plenty of opportunity to explore the castle, the library, the grounds, whatever you like so long as you stay within the boundaries. The castle of Hogwarts is, as you may have noticed, quite big, so take careful note of where you start from and where you go. It's always confusing at first because nothing ever seems to stay in one place, but one soon gets used to it. I will take you to the Great Hall and leave you to yourselves. When Professor Flitwick and I have finished your quarter arrangements, I will ask some of the portraits to send for you."

They nodded eagerly, and after vanishing the chairs they were sitting on Minerva led them down to the Great Hall, quietly wondering why they were so amazed at what they were seeing. The moving/talking portraits were always a hit, of course, but usually only with the muggle-borns, and students with at least one wizarding parent weren't often unfamiliar with things like moving staircases, enchanted objects and facilities that were sensitive to week days or phases of the moon. She asked Miss Chase about it while they were walking along a corridor, having to halt a few times so that some of the new students could pull away their friends from staring at various things.

"Oh, Hogwarts is just incredibly different to Mythomagic." the girl answered, herself apparently spellbound by the majesty of the castle's architecture. "For one thing it's not a huge castle like this one, it's lots of little cabins clumped together, a bit like a village - that's why we sometimes call it Camp instead of school, 'cause it looks more like summer camp than an academic environment. Only the principal's house is big, and students don't often go in there unless there's some sort of assembly or if they're in trouble."

"Speaking of trouble," Minerva said in an undertone, "Mr. Filch will no doubt be annoyed that I robbed him of a chance to exert some sort of punishment on you and your friends. My advice is to stay away from him as much and for as long as possible."

Piper McLean made slight face of disgust. She'd joined in their conversation a couple of times to ask questions of her own.

"I was counting on that." she muttered.

It could never be said that Minerva McGonagall ever spoke ill of her colleagues, nor did she encourage any such talk, so she pretended not to hear and stared straight ahead, calling loudly for the boys to catch up.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Annabeth bit her lip as Professor McGonagall turned her back on them and wished them luck on their explorations. She didn't like their situation so far. Percy would tell her to relax and go with the flow, but she was so high-strung that she jumped every time someone spoke to her. Yes, they'd gotten in to Hogwarts, but there was so much that could go wrong at any given time - what if McGonagall went straight to Dumbledore and demanded proof for everything they'd said? What if Dumbledore himself hadn't believed them?

Actually, she knew he hadn't believed her completely, she was sure of it. He was far too blasé about the whole matter: when they entered his office he'd been courteous, but cold and business-like, yet as soon as she started to explain their situation, her lies had suddenly made him interested enough to offer them a place at his school! There was something fishy about all of this, and Annabeth didn't know what. She hated not knowing.

Percy put his arm around her.

"Aw, stop worrying, Annabeth." he said, squeezing gently. "I know you think no-one here believes us, but think about it - and not just the logical side of it, take in the moral stuff as well: Dumbledore couldn't very well reject us once he'd seen that we penetrated the boundaries, he's far too curious to let us go. And despite who we are and what we've done, to him we're just a bunch of kids. He wasn't going to send us on our way while we were away from our families and in a complete different country. You're thinking about it too much."

"But it's all so strange." she whispered "He knows something, Percy, I'm sure of it. He didn't even press us too much even he saw how vague our answers about crossing the borders."

"Maybe he's just used to students being uninformative," Percy told her. "Gods know he would be, this place is huge. How many students d'you think come here?"

"Stop trying to distract me," she muttered. "This is serious."

"And so am I." he said earnestly. "I know this is difficult, but we've all been through worse, and we're all here together."

He cupped her cheek in his hand.

"You say Dumbledore doesn't believe us, I say who cares? The man looks like he's as old as Chiron - he knows what he's doing. Chiron would've told us if the headmaster here was an enemy. The best we can do is play along: we wanted him to accept us, that's what he's doing. He wants us to think he believes us, that's what we're going to pretend. Either way, where's the problem? I mean, practically speaking we have a divine messaging system, two armies of demigods behinds us and an aeon-old centaur as our tutor. What can these medieval little people do?"

Annabeth laughed a little shakily and poked him in the ribs.

"Okay, I get it, but stop insulting our hosts, you're being rude."

"Can we go explore this place now?" Leo asked, nearly bouncing with excitement. "I wanna see everything."

"Good luck with that." Thalia muttered. "See you in three years' time."

"First things first," Annabeth said, back to business. "Our first stop is a bathroom, or an ancient stained-glass window, or anything else that can create a rainbow. We need to contact Chiron asap."

They would need evidence of their education at Mythomagic very soon, she knew. No school in the world, no even a wizarding one, would accept students without demanding some sort of identity proof. There was also the problem of wands, they didn't have any, and luggage - wasn't there any way at all they could get some of their clothes from home?

Leo bounded up the nearest staircase, flying up the stairs and examining the ledge once he reached the top, clearly intent on finding out exactly how those moving chunks of marble managed to move so silently and easily, and on an apparently completely random basis. Annabeth couldn't help but smile as he peered at the white marble handrail, his nose nearly touching the stone.

"Not a mechanism, it can't be...no noise...Magnetic attraction?"

"Leo, I hate to say this, but I don't think you'll find a logical solution to this: it's magic. All of it."

Leo looked up, frustration written on his usually laughing features.

"I know," he said, "but magic has to have a source of power from _somewhere_. You can't have movement without stimuli, the way you can't read a book without opening it. If it moves, there's a reason. In this case it's magic, but what's the cause for magic?"

"Hecate." Hazel answered, smiling faintly. "She's the one at the origin of all this, Leo."

Leo huffed but didn't answer.

They explored for a good half-hour, marvelling at the wonders Hogwarts seemed to be entirely made of. Nearly every wall had a portrait on it, nearly every portrait had a person in it, and nearly every painted person threw a remark their way, demanding to know why they were here early, why they were wearing such strange clothes, why the girl with the ungodly short black hair was carrying a bow and quiver (that freaked them out, and they fled without answering, the old wizard in the portrait croaking at them to come back). There seemed to be no end to the twists and turns the castle offered, and every time they entered a new corridor, or they opened a door long enough to slip past, or they climbed another flight of stairs, there was no way of keeping track: as soon as they tried to mark their passage by memorizing a crooked suit of armour or leaving a mark of soot on a gargoyle's pedestal (Leo provided the sparks) the castle somehow appeared to morph and erase all traces of their presence, leaving them dumbfounded, hopelessly lost and increasingly desperate.

When this happened for the third time, Nico got so fed up he gave a sort of snarl and summoned a ball of black fire in his hand and prepared to lob it at a frustratingly non-cooperative statue. Jason stopped him, grabbing his arm quickly and lowering it.

"Careful." he said. It was enough.

Nico shot Jason a dark look and snatched his arm back, moodily turning his back on him and going to lean against the wall. He picked at the studs on a leather bracelet he had on his arm, ignoring everyone else.

Annabeth knew that if Nico was showing signs of restless impatience, his black mood would soon affect everyone else, and the last thing they wanted right now was an argument.

"Hey," she said. "It's okay. We could all do with a rest. Let's find somewhere to sit down."

They found an alcove with a couple of benches large enough for all of them to sit down. There were no paintings near them, so they were free to talk of what they liked, but Annabeth hated the feeling that someone, or _something_, might pop up at any moment and hear them talking. She'd read a lot of fiction among all her academic work, and sometimes there had been passages in books where the protagonist was being searched for, or even hunted. The character was always described as running or crouching, out of sight, their heart beating so loud they were sure someone would be able to hear it. But when Annabeth was the prey in similar situations - and the Fates knew how many she'd been in - her heart always felt like it was still, her body even more so. She was always as tense as Thalia's bowstring, and twice as likely to snap if something surprised her. She hated feeling hunted, even now, when she knew there wasn't really anything chasing her.

She squeezed Percy's hand tightly, trying to tell him how glad she was that he was here with her, how much she loved him and how scared she was that this would turn out badly. Her thoughts were irrational, she knew: of course it would turn out badly. When you were a demigod, it was only a matter of time.

"Hey, what do you think Muggles are?" Jason asked suddenly. "Both Dumbledore and McGonagall mentioned it a couple of times, but I have no idea what it is."

"It sounded like it's a name for a certain type of people." Hazel said, leaning her head against Frank's shoulder. "When McGonagall asked us what blood status we were - whatever that is - she said pure-blood, half-blood or muggle something."

"Muggle-born." Annabeth recalled. It was painfully obvious what Muggles were.

"They're non-magical people." Nico said unexpectedly. Usually he stayed out of a conversation as if his life depended on it. "That dead guy I saw in the underworld, the one who was a wizard, he said something about Muggles, I remember now..."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Jason said, his brow creasing slightly. "Pure-blood probably means that you're fully connected to wizards, and half-blood that only one of your parents is magical. But 'Muggle' sound a bit derogatory, doesn't it? I mean, why give people a name just because they don't have magic? And why make it sound so...simple?"

"I imagine it started as a nickname." Annabeth said, thoughtful. "In the twentieth century, when the Nazi movement began to rise, the party members weren't called the Nazis but the German Nationalist Socialists. It was only when other countries started to critically call them 'Nazis' that the name stuck, but only because they welcomed the name and glorified in its meaning."

"Typical." Thalia muttered.

"Yeah, but the Muggles didn't deliberately adopt the name," Leo said, frowning. "They don't even know about the wizarding world."

"Which means that wizards deliberately call normal people something that makes them sound childish and dumb?" Piper asked, looking disgusted.

Annabeth hesitated.

"I don't think it works quite like that." she said. "You saw Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. They mentioned Muggles like they were perfectly part of ordinary life - I don't think they meant anything by it. Or _they _don't, anyway. McGonagall asked us our blood status like she was asking our ethnic origin. For all we know, it's perfectly normal information to give whenever things turn administrative."

"And we have names for people as well," Percy pointed out. "We're... you know, demigods." he whispered. "And normal humans are mortals."

"Yeah, but those names actually explain what people are." Thalia argued. " 'Demigod' is a status, not a name, and 'Mortal' doesn't sound mean or patronizing, it's simply stating that they die at some point while immortals don't."

"I agree." Annabeth said. "But if we're going to fit in here, we should use the term like everyone else."

She could see by their expressions that they weren't happy with it, but it wasn't like they had any choice.

"Don't you think we'll stand out if we're all half-bloods?" Piper asked, looking anxious. "McGonagall looked surprised when we all said that."

Annabeth shrugged.

"Statistical oddity, cultural differences, extra attraction between magical and non-magical people in America, who cares? She can't exactly prove us wrong, and she doesn't have motive to."

"She could." Frank mumbled. "Prove us wrong, I mean. All she'd have to do is look up our names on the American register of wizards, if there is such a thing."

"In which case Chiron will no doubt pull some strings and get our names on there. Actually they're probably already there if it works by magic," Annabeth mused, "seeing as Hecate herself gave us these new powers. And if she's still not happy, she'll have a hard time finding parents for those of us who don't have any, and if she does find some they can tell her without doubt that their partner was, ah...special."

"Speaking of powers," Leo said, as everyone nodded at Annabeth's words, slightly reassured. "Dumbledore has a wand, and he asked us if we still had one. But we, um... don't. How does that work out?"

Annabeth hesitated and didn't answer. Hazel did.

"I think Hecate would've thought of that if it were a problem." she said. "The best thing is probably just to wait. It would've been suspicious if we _all _lost our wands before we came here."

"Great. So tomorrow in class we'll just be like, _No, sorry Professor, I can't turn my hair purple, my wand seems to have skipped off_." Leo snorted.

Annabeth was starting to get annoyed.

"Well, we can't do anything about it just now." she retorted, slightly snappishly. "What is it, Leo? We've been on quests before, and nothing ever goes according to plan - why is it so new to improvise as we go along?"

He held up his hands.

"Geez, lady." he said. "Fine. I get it. No wands, no problem. No clue about wizards, no problem. No proof for lies, no problem. I'll shut up."

Annabeth rolled her eyes and didn't push it.

They talked quietly for few more minutes, occasionally glancing down the corridor to check if anyone was coming their way - though why they were so tense, even Annabeth wasn't too sure, they hadn't seen anyone apart from Filch, McGonagall and Dumbledore so far. Finally though, they got up and started to look for a bathroom, which they decided was their best option to create a rainbow away from prying eyes. They came down a couple of floors and asked a portrait for directions to the nearest bathroom. The young and pretty witch in it gave the boys in the group a once-over and simpered at them, ignoring Annabeth's questions and batting her eyelashes at Jason especially. The son of Zeus looked uncomfortable, and Piper very deliberately put his arm around her waist, glaring at the witch, who shrugged and turned to Nico instead.

"Good den, young sir." she said, coyly. "What bringeth you here?"

Nico looked dumbfounded, and opened his mouth to answer but no sound came out. Instead his pale cheeks flushed slightly and Annabeth couldn't help but grin a little.

"Never mind who he is, I'm Leo Valdez!" Leo bubbled, predictably. He planted himself right in front of the witch and gave her his (he apparently thought) most charming smile.

"So, er...lovely witch that you are, where's the bathroom, please?" he asked.

The witch in the portrait frowned slightly.

"What speaketh thou? 'Tis no tongue of mine."

"Well, clearly it is. I mean you understand the gist of it, right?"

The witch rose a delicately painted eyebrow. Leo visibly fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Oh, fine. Where be-eth the...er, the room to wash oneself, pray tell? If it pleases Your Grace? I mean, milady? I mean-"

The witch giggled, covering her mouth with three fingers as she laughed.

"Thou art most amusing." she said, looking at him from under her eyelashes. " 'Tis certain I am no lady. Whither dost thy companions hail from?"

"What?" Leo asked, confused. "Oh, them? All over-est the place - I mean, world." He waved a hand around impatiently. "Please, milady, answereth the damn question."

The witch looked shocked.

"Thou speaketh against the will of the Lord! Goest in hell, miscreant, I wilt not treat with thee. Begone!"

"Aw, come one! Don't be like that, I just really want to go to the bathroom!"

The witch looked positively scandalized.

"Bath room? How dareth thee speak of such matters?" she screeched. "I am no lady, 'tis true, but ye dost not gain from ye who dost not speak fair. Harken this, young brigand: I knoweth not witherto thy hails form, but 'tis a most ungodly land, verily 'tis so!"

Even Annabeth had to listen hard to understand what the witch was going on about, and Leo's mouth was slightly open in confusion.

"She says she won't help." Annabeth translated.

Leo huffed and stuck his hands in his pocket.

"Huh. Well, goest and flippeth thyself, then." he muttered, slouching back to stand next to Piper, who could barely contain her laughter.

The witch crossed her arms and stuck her nose up in to the air, looking pointedly away from all of them. Annabeth rubbed her temple. They needed to find bathroom, and fast. She made eye-contact with Nico and gave a him a pleading look. The girl had liked the look of him, maybe she still did.

The son of Hades looked pained, but he approached the painting nevertheless. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Excuse me," he said quietly. "Could you direct us to the nearest wash-room, please?"

The witch looked down on him and her crossed arms loosened slightly.

"Thou needest the washing room?" she asked, slightly suspiciously. "Dost thou need to wash thy clothes?"

"No." Nico said. He raised his hands slightly. "My hands. They're dirty."

The witch relaxed.

"Verily, thy hands needeth water." she said, smiling cheekily. "Goest down this here corridor and the room thou needest be through the second door on the right."

"Thanks a lot." Nico said, adding a strained smile for her efforts. "See you."

"_Adieu, mon ami_." the witch called as they walked away, Nico fastest of all. "Mayhap we wilt meet once more!"

"I sincerely hope not." Nico mumbled once they were out of earshot.

To their credit, none of his friends commented on the painted witch's soft spot for him, though once or twice Piper exchanged a look with Annabeth and grinned. They found the bathroom easily enough, but apparently the witch in the portrait needed to update her knowledge of the castle.

"It's out of order." said Percy. "You'd think it would be fixed after a two-month-long summer holiday."

"_And _it's for girls." Leo said, sounding revolted. Piper poked him in the ribs.

"If it's out of order then no-one will mind if boys go in." she said. "In fact no-one will mind if anyone goes in, 'cause they won't know about it."

Leo mumbled something in protest, but Piper and Annabeth dragged him inside the disused bathroom. It was a grim place, all grey and cold and dusty, which Leo wasted no time in pointing out, because how were they meant to create a rainbow in a place like this? Long summer afternoons meant that it was still brightly sunny outside, but only a pale shaft of light filtered through the dusty, cobwebbed windows. There was a very faint gurgling sound around that suggested a broken tap, and the water marks on the floor said that a few floods had happened here before.

"Nice." Percy said, looking around. "I can see why students like this place."

"I wonder why no-one bothered to fix it." Piper murmured, examining the wash sinks. "It can't be that difficult in a school of magic."

"Doesn't matter. We need to find a way to make a rainbow." Annabeth said, tying her hair up in a ponytail. She strode to one of the sinks and turned the tap, which was so rusty it screeched as soon as she twisted it. No water came out. She tried another, still no water. Annoyed, she tried another tap. No water.

"None of these are working." she announced, frustrated. "But I can hear water; where's it coming from?"

"I think it might just be the pipes." Piper said, looking at the walls. "Maybe we can use some of this broken glass? Wait, no, that's not glass," she rummaged around on the floor and carefully picked up a large shard. "It's a piece of mirror."

Annabeth relaxed.

"Great. Mirrors can create tiny rainbows. If we can find the right angle and make it bigger, we can ask Iris to-"

"Who are _you_?" a voice suddenly asked rudely.


End file.
